


Claws in the Earth

by Ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit



Series: Claws In The Earth [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aged up characters, Alternate Universe, And Meulin really, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Multi, Nepeta doesn't give a single fuck about being a perv, Nepeta is a BAMF, So is the Disciple, Violence, Werecats, Xeno, actually you know what everybody is a BAMF, amazon jungle warrior catwomen, bugles and nooks and such, lots of blood oh my god, tw: blood play, wild feral werecat children Nepeta and Meulin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 67,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit/pseuds/Ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nepeta grew up in the stone tower in the jungle that reached for the sky, feral and wild and free, with only the company of her sister and mother. She knew that eventually she'd be expected to find a mate and help rebuild the werecat population, but for the moment she's more concerned with being as much of a badass as possible. When some of the villagers from the nearby settlement get trapped in the tower during a terrible storm, chased in by some junglecats, she gets her chance to show off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cat's Cradle

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, The Disciple (known as Felide) and her two daughters Meulin and Nepeta are werecats, stronger, faster, and generally much more deadly than your average every day troll. Trolls and human live together in an intermixed society, forming tribes and clans and sometimes massive sprawling cities. In Nepeta's corner of the world, which happens to be a massive dense unconquered jungle, a new village has popped up. 
> 
> It's an effort by the Queen (HIC) to continue colonial expansion into new territory, and boasts a small population of the kingdom's finest. 
> 
> Hopefully they're prepared for all the shit that the jungle has to throw at them - including werecats.

The jungle had always been their home, an ancient and unconquered place where creatures dangerous and wild thrived in the dark heart of the nascent world. Civilizations had risen and fell, toppled and extinguished by the feral intensity of the jungle and its inhabitants that overtook them. Felide would tell them long, bloody stories about the history of their home as they piled together in their crumbling tower, warmed by the dying embers of their hearth, her rasping voice floating into the comforting stillness of the night. 

Nepeta had grown up in the tower, cut her teeth on the vermin that dared to scuttle around its lowest levels. It reached to the sky, a monstrous hollow stone pillar that Felide thought had once been white, but had dulled to gray over the years, crawling plants and jungle life over taking it. It was gorgeous, she had always thought, the strange swirling carvings that decorated it comforting and familiar. A seemingly endless spiraling staircase traced up the inside, bits of it crumbling and giving way to tree roots or jungle vines or creeping plant growth, but for the most part, structurally stable. She'd never feared the stairs, racing up and down them with her sister from her very first steps, learning to be nimble and quick footed to avoid the vines and roots and loose chunks of stone. 

The outside of her home seemed to be nearly overtaken by the arching canopy of trees, holes that had used to be windows now serving as entry ways for searching branches. The moat had probably once been useful, but had become so full of rock and earth and who knew what else that it was little more than a neck-deep personal stream. She and Meulin had learned to swim in it, since Felide wouldn't let them anywhere near the adjoining waterfall and its deep pool until they were competent. 

They were lucky to live near to a fresh water source, Nepeta knew, and was aware that perhaps they took it for granted. Or would, if they didn't have to work so hard to ensure that it continued to be theirs. 

Few things were stupid enough to venture so far into the territory of werecats, though, another thing she was thankful for. 

She sprawled in the sun near the pool, the gentle lapping of water on the earthy shore lulling her into a sleepy kind of half-consciousness. Her ears pricked, catching the sounds of Meulin splashing around, no doubt attempting to catch a frog or fish. Their mother was elsewhere for the time being, and Nepeta wondered what she was hunting this time. She hoped it had a big enough pelt to make a new head-dress from – hers was starting to become a bit small for her head, her horns poking out awkwardly as they grew. 

She eyed Meulin, wondering how long it would be until she started catching up with her sister in terms of growth. The pair were separated by about a sweep or two, Felide wasn't entirely sure. 

They had different fathers, Nepeta knew. She could tell from the subtle differences in their heights and builds, facial features. Meulins horns were slightly blunter than her own, though they retained the same basic shape, both reminiscent of their mother's. She wondered who they were, why they had never known them.

Apparently in Felide's youth their family had been much larger, a sprawling population of weres related both by blood and by necessity of survival. Their 'species', she supposed, had had a much larger population before they'd started being hunted, seen as threats and, occasionally, supernatural monsters by the civilizations that tried to build themselves up in the jungle. One evening when the clan was weak from a botched hunt the tribal village had set fire to their tower, burning and slaughtering most of Felide's family before her eyes. She'd taken to the trees and escaped with a few others, but had been the only one to ultimately return and reclaim her home. That had been many many sweeps ago, she reassured her brood, but always seemed sad when she told the story, like it was still fresh pain in her heart.

A threat they certainly were, since Nepeta considered herself quite lethal, thank you very much. Supernatural? Well, she wasn't so sure. She'd been born the way she was, as had Meulin, perhaps because Felide always bit and turned her mates before she deigned to breed with them. Couldn't raise weak daughters in the solitude of the wild jungle, after all.

One day, Meulin would hunt down and turn a mate of her own, and bear her child to add to their clan. Nepeta would as well, though it was slightly further off. Felide was trying to rebuild from the catastrophe, but seemed to be having little luck – not everyone was strong enough of spirit and body to be able to ultimately survive the turning when the next full moon dawned, and even though her mates had ensured the continuation of their line, they themselves had died when the change took them. 

Either that or Felide herself put them down. Nepeta was never really sure what happened. She was somewhat afraid to ask. 

Meulin's victorious cry echoed off the rocks and stones that lined the waterfall's pool, sloshing out of the water with her prized fish and slamming its head against the earth, bringing its frenzied twitching and flopping to an end. “Lunch time,” she trilled, flicking drops of water from her claws at Nepeta. 

“I ate a frog,” Nepeta mumbled, feeling too sleepy and lazy to dodge the water that sprinkled across her face. 

Meulin shrugged and stretched out naked on the ground to begin nibbling at her catch, tail waving in lazy contentment. She'd slipped out of her clothing and pelts before sluicing into the water earlier, disliking the smell of wet or damp fur. 

Today the air smelled like sunshine and rain, Nepeta thought idly, prying one eye open to peer up at the sun-spotted canopy. There'd be a storm rolling through before tomorrow's end, meaning Felide would probably be coming back soon with whatever she'd caught to tide them through. 

“I hope she brings back a pelt big 'nuff for a new headdress,” she muttered to Meulin, watching the girl's ears twitch. Due to an incident soon after her birth her sister's senses were somewhat dulled, nowhere near as sharp as the average were's and more on par with a normal troll or very sensitive human. “My horns are starting to get too big for this one.” 

“Yers are wider than mine,” Meulin observed, licking a spot of blood from her lips. “Wonder if they'll get as big as mom's.” 

Nepeta hoped so. Their mother was the epitome of ferocity, danger dripping from her every move. She was a feral beauty with animal and troll teeth strung through the braids in her wild hair like beads, hanging from her neck and wrists like precious jewelry, the pelts she wore stained with multiple colors of blood , painting her like some kind of deadly rainbow. 

She was everything Nepeta wanted to be. 

Her nose twitched at an approaching scent and she suppressed a grin, subtly inching further away from Meulin and waiting. 

Her sister screeched and yowled when a large carcass dropped from the treeline, thudding half on her legs, a flailing paw nearly clipping her horn. The rasping, cackling laughter of their mother sounded through the trees, and Nepeta giggled, watching Felide leap from the branch she'd hidden herself on, landing with silent grace beside her latest kill. 

“Good to see you kittens alert as ever,” she teased, hauling the body off of Meulin and laughing some more when the girl hissed her displeasure at being made the butt of a prank. 

“I was eating!” She whined. “Nepeta, why didn't you say something!?” 

“Thought you'd smell the blood,” she quipped innocently, drawing closer to investigate their newest guest. 

Felide had apparently been feeling feisty, having stalked and brought down some kind of bulky feline, its long thick fangs curling over its lower lip and leaving ruts in the earth from where it had been dragged. Nepeta dug her fingers into the plush snowy fur, smearing the rich brown blood around claw wounds. Definitely big enough to use its head as adornment, and Nepeta couldn't wait to see how she looked with those massive teeth framing the sides of her face, coming into points past her chin. She could probably craft a new skirt from it too, and she admired the gorgeous tuft on the tip of its tail, already planning what color she'd like to dye it. Maybe she'd stripe the pelt this time. 

Meulin grumbled and went back to her lunch, more than content to allow Nepeta to stake her claim on the animal's skin. Felide usually took the claws and any extra teeth her daughters had no interest in, though every once in a while would decide she needed some other new kind of adornment or wrap. This time, however, their mother had retreated to the interior of the tower, probably seeing to stoking their cooking fire. That meant Nepeta got the whole thing to herself to do with as she pleased. 

Purring, she lapped at some of the blood that dripped from the animal's mouth, shivering appreciatively. 

The storm raged on for more than a week without any signs of slowing its onslaught, and Nepeta was thankful for the distraction of crafting her new additions to her wardrobe. Meulin was helping out of boredom, and even Felide was taking up some of the workload, though she seemed much more enthusiastic. Nepeta had certainly inherited her mother's fantastic fashion sense. 

She'd saved some of the beast's blood in a carved wooden bowl and was currently using it as face and body paint, liking the rich warm brown tone. She'd given herself stripes, brown slashing here and there over the cool gray of her skin, and then, feeling playful, had spattered Meulin with spots, much to the girl's joy. 

She had just finished dipping the tuft of the tail in the blood for the final time, the fur now stained a deep brown that made her happy just looking at it. She looked up from her work in order to demand praise for her skills, but Felide was drawn up in a taught line, uncanny green eyes boring out the nearest window past the invading branches. Her mother's unease bled over into her, and she stilled, ears perking and straining for noise. 

Meulin paused, catching on to the strained atmosphere and slowly quieting, her sentence falling off halfway finished. The older were watched her mother while Nepeta watched the staircase, slinking slowly from the landing they were sprawled on and peering down into the abyss that the dark night created. 

Rooms branched off from the staircase every few flights, and sometimes entire suites of them, furnishings and décor long swept away and gone. Felide had made do, crafting what she could from wood and stone and bone and pallets of fur, passing on the skills that she'd been taught to her daughters. The room they were in presently was were they did all their crafting and building and jewelry making, currently lit with the flickering flames of a bright fire to chase away the chill of the rain. 

A strange scraping noise grated across her ears from several stories down, and Nepeta slithered down a few steps, glancing over her shoulder for her mother's permission before noiselessly descending. Of Felide's two daughters Nepeta was the most adept at silence and sneaking, and of violent close quarters combat. For all that Meulin had terrible hearing by were standards, her nose was impeccable, and she was an adept tracker and trap setter, a brilliant thinker and planner and hunter. 

Nepeta put thoughts of her family from her mind as she slunk down the stairs, moving along silently on all fours, feeling her body shift in order to accommodate her. The claws on her feet were already growing out, but not long enough to scrape against the stone, she was too good at being quiet for that silly mistake. Her prey, apparently, was not. 

She drew closer to the sound, eyes narrowing. There was a troll struggling to stand, leaning heavily against the wall of the landing, ragged breaths shaking his chest. His horns were strange and twinned, two sharp points rising out of his rain-slicked hair on each side of his head. His scent was sharp and it stung her nose, almost like it crackled, with an under layer of sweetness that she wasn't sure she could identify. He was swearing to himself, words lisping around his odd doubled fangs, something about the rain blocking out his 'psionics' and making flight impossible. He had a companion, a much shorter and more muscular troll, who was providing the scraping noise by his claws raking against the walls of the tower as he struggled to hold himself up on quivering legs. 

Nepeta kept to the darkness of the upper flight, staring down at the intruders with cautious curiosity. The smaller troll smelled of the tang of blood and of stale sweat, and his mouth was running a mile a minute, cursing up a blue streak. From what she gathered they'd been chased into the relative safety of the tower by a marauding group of jungle cats, and she smirked at the irony. Right into the lion's den, as it were. 

When she peaked quickly out the window she could see that the animals were still out there, prowling as close to the base of the tower as they dared press. 

“Why the fuck aren't they coming in here, Sollux. It's creepy as shit. Why haven't you ever seen this tower on your scouting expeditions? It's fucking HUGE. How do you miss a goddamn monolith, Captor?!” 

“Shut up, KK,” the taller troll lisped, and Nepeta fought the urge to giggle. Wow, that was unfortunate. 

“Thut up, KK,” his friend(?) mocked, staring out the large arching doorway at the cats that were slowly pressing closer, emboldened by the fact that no screaming were had descended on them yet. “Oh shit, they're getting closer. Fuck, damn it, I always knew I'd die because your incompetent ass got us into something. FUCK.” 

“Not my fault you dropped your sickles, KK,” 'Sollux' spat. “And it's still not my fault it's raining, no matter how many times you decide to blame me. My psionics don't work in the wet, and you had to go and lose your weapons. Shittiest leader, it's you.” 

The largest jungle cat had gotten brave, and bared its massive fangs at the trapped trolls. Nepeta wondered why they hadn't thought to start scaling the staircase yet, and if they were truly stupid. 

Then again, the infinitely more dangerous predators lurked a few more stories up. She could smell Felide's quiet amusement and tension, and Meulin's confusion. 'KK' snarled right back at the cat, earning himself a growl for his efforts. 

“You're just making it mad, numbnuts,” Sollux muttered, slouching against the wall. Exhaustion rolled off of him in waves, making her nose twitch. “I only have like two throwing stars left.” 

“Of course it's only two,” KK grumbled, with just a trace of exasperated amusement. 

Nepeta felt irritation bubble up inside of her when the junglecats slunk even closer, one's massive head clearing the threshold of the tower, rainwater dripping from its sleek snout. This was HER territory (well, Felide's, but by extension hers). When it slunk to the side, beginning to shepherd the two exhausted trolls further against the wall they were planning to make their last stand against, she hissed quietly, getting more and more upset with every cat that joined the first. 

The sharp stink of fear and anger pervaded the air, the hopelessness of it smacking her across the face. What was she doing just sitting there!? These boys were going to get themselves killed being so helpless!

Nepeta leaped forward noiselessly, her claws neatly sluicing through the throat of the nearest predator, moving on when it dropped heavily to its belly, dead. There were five in all, now that the sixth was taken care of, and KK was threatening the one nearest to him with his claws and teeth, his only weapons. A troll's claws were nothing to underestimate, but they were also nothing compared to hers. 

She grabbed a cat by its tail and hauled, gratified when it screeched in pain. Sollux's head whipped to face her, but she was still cloaked in darkness, so all he saw was the junglecat being dragged into the shadows, scrabbling in terror. 

“KK what the fuck,” he breathed, “There's something in here with us.” 

“NO SHIT,” the troll hollered, taking a swipe and earning himself a raking of claws across one thigh. 

“No, no shit,” Sollux warbled, finally spotted the bright gleam of Nepeta's eyes as they glowed at him from the dark, slitted pupils darting back and forth, picking her next victim. She'd have to come out of hiding sooner rather than later, and she knew from the hitch in Sollux's yammering heartbeat that he'd seen her, the stink of his apprehension. 

She sprang, powerful legs carrying her forward as she slammed bodily into the animal that was about to take KK's head off, a fierce cry ripping itself from her lips. The troll she'd just saved staggered backward with an alarmed shriek, nearly falling over.   
“Where the great nookwhiffing FUCK did SHE COME FROM!?!?” He screamed, gesticulating wildly at her as she buried her teeth into the animal's neck, ripping savagely, its blood fountaining and splashing down her front. 

Coated in the slick yellowish green, she whirled, her grating roar of challenge attracting the attention of the remaining three. One charged her immediately with a yowl, and they went down in a clashing of limbs, wrestling on the floor. KK moaned at the crunching sound of breaking bones when Nepeta crushed the thing's skull against the wall with a swift kick, spinning away from it and launching herself for the one that was taking a swipe at Sollux, grabbing it by the shoulders with one clawed hand and raking it across the face with the other. 

The last junglecat took one look at her covered in the blood of its allies and promptly fled, dashing back out into the storm without even a single look back. 

“I have the weirdest boner right now KK,” Sollux whispered dimly to his friend, and received an elbow in the ribs for his efforts. Nepeta wasn't sure what that meant, but apparently it had been mean, so she hissed at him, showing off her blood drenched teeth, her long pointed canines dripping. 

“No, woah woah woah, he's an idiot but he didn't mean it, oh god,” KK babbled, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “Please don't fucking kill us whatever the fuck kind of amazonian goddess you are, we come in peace!” 

Nepeta paused, licking some of the blood from her lips and off of one of her fingers as she considered the two trolls she'd just saved, squinting critically. When they both smelled like they were perhaps about to piss themselves in fear she propped a hand on her hip and dissolved into giggles, shaking her head. 

“Wow! You two were like weak little mewling kittens! Lucky thing you decided to hide in my tower, huh?” She laughed out, then added, “Well, my mom's tower. Same thing, really.” 

“WHAT,” KK sputtered out, looking like she'd physically slapped him across the face. Sollux wavered like he was about to faint, and then pointed silently when Meulin came padding down the stairs, nose quivering. 

“Oh, wow, Nep, we'll eat for a month with all this,” her sister crooned appreciatively, “Good job.” 

“WHAT,” KK repeated, head swinging back and forth from her and her sister. 

Nepeta grinned rather smugly, tail flicking. She'd never had guests before. She really, really hoped that Felide let them stay for a little while. At least until the rain stopped.


	2. Of Childbearers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat sure embarrasses easy, Nepeta thinks. She likes it.

The meat crackled over the fire, and Nepeta smacked her lips appreciatively, the smell of roasting skin and fat thick in the air. Meulin had hidden herself away after a cursory introduction, not trusting the two strange trolls enough to be around them for longer than minutes at a time. She was probably up in her room in her veritable fort of furs and woven cloth blankets, listening quietly to the rain as it sang. 

Felide turned the meat on the spit, checking to make sure that the one side hadn't been overdone so far. Nepeta knew that the woman was being quiet mostly to unnerve their guests, and snickered to herself, baring her fangs in a grin. 

Sollux shifted uncomfortably at that, and she pinioned him with her eyes, ears perked upward. “So!” She chirped, satisfied with the way that 'KK' jumped, shocked out of his mental meanderings by her voice. “I'm Nepeta, daughter of Felide, last Mother of the Tower. Tell me your names.” 

“Karkat,” the shorter one nearly barked, looking flustered. His eyes kept darting from side to side, like he was seriously considering making a break for it, when it still stormed outside and he was in front of a fire, meat cooking away. It might have been one of the dumbest ideas he'd had so far. She could scent the nervousness on him, the barely restrained need to freak out and throw a fit. His muscles strained beneath his skin, and his jaw was clenched tight. 

“I'm the captain of the guard for Skaia,” he added after a moment, obviously feeling as if he needed to add some kind of title. She liked that he had 'cat' in his name, made it easier to remember. But considering that it was only the fourth name she'd ever heard of in her life, she doubted that she was going to forget it. 

“My name is Sollux,” the other one managed, and she giggled. It must be hard to not be able to pronounce your own name correctly. “I'm in this esteemed leader's cavalry.” 

Whatever that meant it sounded nice, but Karkat seemed to have taken that as a jab of some sort, from his grumpy expression. Or maybe that was just default. Nepeta wasn't sure. 

“So is there a reason you aren't wearing a shirt or...?” Sollux trailed off after a moment, merely looking amused when his friend squawked in horror at his audacity. 

Felide snorted, tossing her youngest daughter an amused look. Nepeta blinked owlishly at Sollux, then glanced down at her bare chest where he'd idly gestured, not seeing the problem. Her mother and sister rarely wore any kind of chest coverings either, but Nepeta was the one that forewent them most frequently, preferring to feel the wind and earth and water against her skin, the scent of the jungle embedded in her. Less clothing meant less things to rustle and make noise when she went prowling, less scent for her prey to catch on the wind. Less color to stick out in the greens and browns of the jungle foliage. She really only covered up in the cold seasons, when it was unbearable not to. 

She decided to play dumb, liking the way that Karkat was nearly writhing in embarrassment. “What's a shirt?” She asked slowly, sitting up straight and tilting her head to one side. The multiple strings of teeth and claws that she'd draped around her neck that morning rustled and clinked together when she moved, and she was genuinely confused when Karkat averted his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. 

Was not wearing a chest covering a bad thing for their people or something? It was just skin, even if she had bumps of fat on her chest that they did not. Honestly, she'd assumed all trolls did, since her mother and sister also possessed them, in varying sizes. Hers were the smallest, but that just meant they stayed out of the way. But now that she paid more attention, Karkat and Sollux had flat chests under their coverings. Strange. 

“Where are your breasts?” She asked, creeping forward to poke at Sollux's sternum. Karkat emitted some kind of unfortunate whine, covering his face with his hands. 

Sollux snorted, his mouth twisting into a silly grin. “I don't have any, unfortunately. Sometimes I wish I did.” 

“Oh god Sollux shut UP!” Karkat snapped. 

“Only females have breasts, kitten,” Felide said with a laugh, and when Nepeta squinted in confusion (females?) she clarified, “Mothers, daughters, sisters. Childbearers. Only ones that can whelp have breasts.” She paused, thought, then said, “Usually.” 

“Oh, teats,” Nepeta said, as if that explained everything. Honestly, it kind of did. Abruptly she found herself wondering the others ways these non-females could possibly differ, other than from the starting point that they were not weres, and not female, apparently. 

She poked at the apex of Sollux's groin, startled when he scooted away from her with an affronted “Hey!” Karkat groaned into his hands and seemed to be willing himself out of existence, his scent heavy with mortification. Felide cackled loudly, nearly dropping the meat off the spit. “Kitten! Nepeta, give him his space. He is not used to us in that way.” 

She backed away accordingly, staring with wonder at the yellow tinge that had blossomed in Sollux's cheeks. His blood was different from hers, too! She wondered how it would look on the walls in her room, next to all the smears of olive and other sundry colors she'd decorated with. 

“Besides, all trolls are the same there anyway,” her mother informed her, deftly removing the meat from the fire and beginning to rip it into portions with her claws. “Am not sure about humans, though. Never looked.” 

Well, that was some food for thought. Nepeta regarded the newcomers thoughtfully as she returned to her pallet of furs, rolling onto her stomach and reaching out for the strips of hot meat that her mother was offering her. She chewed greedily, tongue laving the bloody juice from her lips, watching Sollux and Karkat as they stared at the wooden bowl that Felide scooted their way. 

“Is good,” she said around a large mouthful, amused at the way Karkat's eyes followed the drops of juice that were rolling down her chin. That seemed to be all the reassurance that Sollux needed, for he reached out and gingerly took a small piece between his slender fingers, putting it to his tongue and sighing happily. 

“KK, it's been so long since we've had fresh meat like this. Just eat it.” 

Karkat finally seemed to snap himself out of whatever reverie he was in, taking first one bite and then several more, eating quickly with the air of one starved. 

“We've been out in the jungle for days,” Sollux told them between hurried swallows. “Scouting for resources. Water, tillable land, shit like that. We've actually got no fucking idea where we are or where our people are, since KK over here got us hopelessly lost.” 

Karkat grunted. 

“Well, I can't use my psionics when it's raining or there's too much water in the air, so we couldn't fly anymore, plus I'd been flying his fat ass around for like two days and was exhausted. He lost his weapons trying to hunt some kind of hopbeast weasel thing, and then we got fucking ambushed and chased by those junglecats. Then you,” he nodded at Nepeta, who grinned. “Jumped the fuck out of the shadows like a goddamn laughsassin and butchered them like it was some kind of murder game. Thank you for that, by the way, we're grateful.” 

He pinched Karkat on the shoulder and the other troll grated out, “Yeah, thanks.” 

Felide hummed proudly, and Nepeta purred, stretching luxuriously. She didn't miss the way both strange troll's eyes tracked over her form, and she wiggled her hindquarters, snickering when Karkat squeaked and looked away as quickly as he could. This was a fun game. 

“The rain should stop by the morning,” her mother drawled, getting to her feet and beginning to shuffle some chunks of meat into a bowl to take to Meulin.“You two have very good timing.” 

Karkat nodded, continuing to eat like it was the only thing in life that he knew how to do. Felide shook her head and took her leave, ruffling Nepeta's hair as she ascended the stairs and out of sight. 

“I'll find you two some furs and pelts to make beds out of. Do you want to sleep here or higher up in the tower?” Nepeta asked after a few comfortable minutes of silence, not bothering to stifle her large yawn. 

“Wherever there's a fire,” Karkat muttered, and she laughed, understanding. “You should probably get out of your wet clothes, gunna just make yourself sick and colder,” Nepeta told him, deciding to impart some wisdom. If he didn't know THAT he really was helpless. 

“I know that,” he grumbled, but then squinted his eyes at her. “Maybe I'm just waiting for you to leave. We're not all crazy jungle trolls who go around half naked like that's normal.” His eyes widened when she stuck her tongue out at him, tail flicking behind her as she went to hunt down some spare pelts. 

“Sollux. She has a tail.” She heard him whisper to his companion, and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, they all do. Hanging from the pelts around their waists, or whatever.” 

“No, Sollux. She has a tail. It _moves_. It flicks around, like a purrbeast.” The note of hysteria that crept up into the grumpy troll's voice was deliciously amusing, Nepeta decided. She liked it. 

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then a snickered, “That's hot. Jungle catwomen. Man, Jade is going to get the biggest kick out of this ever.” 

Karkat didn't have anything to say to that except some incomprehensible guttural grumbling that ceased when Nepeta came back into the room, arms heaped with an impossibly tall and heavy pile of furs. She dropped them on the ground and huffed, satisfied that she'd provided for her guests. 

“Take as many as you want and curl up in those, get comfy, they're awesome. I think I probably killed most of them,” she nearly purred with pride, deciding to take Karkat's shocked look as a compliment. “In the morning we need to skin all the 'cats that are dead on the first floor. Is bloody work. Hope you're good with your claws.” 

Sollux was snickering to himself as he hauled a fur or three from the pile, dragging them to one side of the room and arranging them. Karkat glared at his friend before promptly flopping down in the ones that remained without making any effort to move them, a surprised pleased chirp breaking from his throat at their unexpected plush comfort. 

Nepeta looked on for a moment to ensure that they were settled before romping up the staircase towards her own personal room, sprawling into her nest-like pile of pelts and fur-filled pillows with a sigh. She burrowed beneath the topmost layer and curled herself into a ball, nuzzling her cheek against the soft fur that smelled like her and smoke and a little like Meulin and Felide. The morning promised to be an exciting one, and she wanted to be plenty well rested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr, as ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit. <3


	3. Holy shit KK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sollux and Karkat get some more information on weres from friendly resident werecat, Nepeta.

If Karkat noticed that she had bothered to cover her chest today he didn't comment, to her disappointment. The swathe of black fabric had been salvaged from the wreckage of a forsaken attempt at colonization at least a sweep or two before, a simple long thin rectangle that Nepeta tied around herself and knotted. They came by most of their cloth this way, since they didn't exactly have a way of making it themselves. Leather was always an option, Nepeta supposed, but that took a lot of effort that she didn't have the patience for. She'd leave that to Meulin. 

She grabbed one of the dead cats by the tail and hauled it one-handed up the stairs to their skinning room, smirking at Karkat when he gaped at the casual show of strength. Winding him up and pulling awkward expressions out of him was quickly becoming her favorite past time, and she'd miss him when he left. She'd have to catalog as many as she could while he was still around. 

Nepeta liked Sollux, too. He was funny in a different way, though she suspected that she didn't understand or grasp most of his actual jokes. That was okay. Felide was out again, probably bounding through the jungle in an attempt to find the location of this 'Skaia' village. It would be good to know where it was – perhaps if this one lasted for any increment of time they could establish some trading. Furs and pelts and meat for other goods, like cloth and furniture, or this mysterious 'honey' that Sollux would mention now and again when talking about the different kinds of food they ate. 

Karkat trailed up the stairs after her, clicking his mouth shut and grumbling to himself. “Zahhak would about cream himself seeing the way she just hefts shit around,” he said to Sollux, who snickered. 

“Why? Is he weak?” Nepeta asked, looking up from getting her claws thoroughly bloody. Karkat barked out a laugh at that, and she grinned, feeling like that was an accomplishment. “No. He's freaky strong, like...could probably punch a hole through your tower wall strong.” Karkat liked to wave his hands around when he talked, Nepeta noted. He was noisy and restless and seemingly incapable of being quiet. He was probably a horrible hunter. 

“Soooo...tails,” Sollux drawled casually, earning a facepalm from Karkat. Nepeta 'hmm'd curiously, waiting for him to elaborate. There was a lot that could be said about tails, what did he want to know? 

“I see that you have one.” 

She snorted, flicking her tail and raising it, curling the end as if to say, 'why yes, I do'. 

“That's so weird,” Karkat muttered, and she glared at him. 

“YOU'RE weird!” She spat, without any real venom. “Everybody I know has one, so to me, you're the freak!” 

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head at that, but Sollux grabbed his bicep before he could move away from her, sighing. “But why do you have a tail? Where we're from, nobody does.” 

“Because we're weres,” Meulin answered, drifting down the stairs directly above them. “We're not just trolls, like you.” 

Well, cat's out of the bag, Nepeta thought with a giggle. She was so clever. 

“Did mom want you just telling them that?” She asked her sister, who flicked her on the forehead with a claw as she passed by on her way to find breakfast. “They were bound to be asking questions, what with you showing off all over the place, Nep.” 

She hadn't been showing off. Not really. She just liked to watch the faces they made when she did something awesome. Meulin and Felide had stopped appreciating just how impressive she was a long time ago. 

“But yes, weres. Werecats, if you want to be specific.” Meulin fixed Sollux with her bright yellow-green eyes, their slitted pupils focused on him intently. “We're stronger, faster, deadlier. Tails and claws and teeth are part of that package, moreso than already just being a troll.” 

Karkat looked like he was fairly ready to explode with questions, but Meulin was already gone, hopping off the ledge and taking the quick way down stairs. 

“Super bendy and stretchy too,” Nepeta chirruped, feeling that Meulin had left out some of the coolest parts. “If we get hurt, we tend to just heal up really fast, which makes being out on long hunts way easier. Plus, we can smell fear.” 

She leered at Karkat, leaning back on her haunches and cackling when he nearly shrieked, his hands lurching for weapons on his belt that weren't there. When Sollux made a gesture that probably meant that he wanted her to keep talking, she nodded and obliged. “Our senses are better, too, mom says. Hear better, smell better, see better. We're the best predators. Nothing hunts like a were.” 

“That's why the junglecats didn't want to follow us into the tower,” Sollux mused, mulling over all the new information. They seemed to be taking it in very well, and Nepeta was surprised. What was living in a village like that they didn't seem too fazed by being told that she was a highly evolved super killing and hunting machine? Trolls sure were weird. 

“Can you actually smell emotions?” Karkat demanded, and Nepeta giggled when Sollux wiggled his eyebrows at him. 

“Eh, close enough to it. I can smell your sweat and hear your heart beat. Meulin says there's probably hormones and stuff that we can smell too, and that helps us figure out how the rest of our clan is feeling without having to ask.” 

She went back to the task at hand, happy to talk while she did so. 

“Mom always says it's impossible to lie to a were, or hide your feelings – we can smell you in a lie. I got in trouble a lot when I was little until I learned that lesson.” 

Sollux laughed quietly, but didn't say anything. Apparently now that Karkat had gotten his voice back he was going to use it. “Can you turn trolls or humans into weres?” 

Nepeta had to think that one over. “I don't know if _I_ could. You have to be a matriarch to do that, and I haven't even had my first heat yet.” 

Sollux made a strange sound in his throat, and Karkat whined out a strangled “oh my god”. 

“Sollux when she just says shit like that I can't even. Who. Why. I-” Karkat babbled, made a spastic motion with his hands, and gasped out to her, “You can't just SAY shit like that!” 

Nepeta made a curious mewling noise, wrinkling her nose. Why not? It was true. Weres usually had their first mating heats when they were around nine or so sweeps, or eighteen-ish human years. Meulin had gone through hers about a year or two ago, since she was roughly twenty two human years old now. Nepeta herself was eighteen, and had been more or less dreading the inevitability of her first heat to suffer through without a prospective mate. Felide managed every year, usually by leaving the tower and venturing out in search of someone or something to mutilate. Meulin had been _miserable_ , hiding away in one of the highest floors of the tower for days and yowling and crying. Yeah..Nepeta definitely wasn't looking forward to any of that. 

“Talking openly about sex is taboo and frowned upon where we come from,” Sollux explained, smothering a smirk to the best of his ability. “Though I don't get why.” 

“Because you're a filthy pervert,” Karkat groused. “You and your moirail are so weird about that shit and it freaks everybody out.” 

“Moi...moi...rail?” Nepeta couldn't quite get her mouth to wrap around the word. It was foreign and strange, though...she perhaps recalled her mother mentioning it, sweeps and sweeps ago, when she was going over troll romance. Nepeta had ignored it, really, since she was going to be alone in the jungle all her life unless she could snag herself a mate. Were instincts trumped biological troll ones, every time. 

“ _What the fuck kind of troll doesn't know what a moirail is?_ ” Karkat blustered, looking personally offended. Nepeta decided that she was offended by his tone, and hissed softly, warningly. He ignored it. “What about a matesprit? A kismesis? An auspistice? Ringing any bells? Holy shit.” 

“She grew up in a jungle, KK,” Sollux reminded him with a roll of his – oh, woah, Nepeta had just noticed – two differently colored eyes. That was so cool. “With her mom and sister.” 

“Okay, sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up. _I am going to teach you_.” Karkat was suddenly very intense, and it made her hackles raise. She flattened her ears and refused to edge away from him, reluctant to show weakness in the face of his energy. 

Hours later Nepeta felt like she knew far, far too much about troll romance. Seriously? Four different partners? (Five, technically, because that stupid ashen thing needed three trolls in it.) That was crazy! You only needed one mate in order to have your kittens, and she'd shouted that at Karkat, but he'd countered that with something about matesprits and by the end of it all she was feeling frazzled and overloaded, oversensitive. 

Karkat's scent had constantly wafted over her as he'd drawn closer, and with every near manic gesture it had rolled over her skin, infusing the air and setting her nose on overdrive. He'd shouted and paced and waved his arms and at one point reached out and shook her lightly by the shoulders, which she'd allowed on the count of being too distracted to stop him or care. He smelled overwhelmingly of sweat, of exertion, and oddly spicy. She'd made the mistake of inhaling deeply when he'd passed close by her during some of his impassioned pacing, and now her nose was clogged with his smell. 

Finally, it had been too much. She'd fled, breezing past Meulin and darting for the waterfall, shucking out of her breast band and hip-pelt and under coverings and crashing into the pool. She waded into where the waterfall was crashing down and stood under the surge, letting it soak her to the bone. 

When she emerged from the torrent Sollux was sitting cross legged on the bank beside the rumpled pile of her clothes, his foot coverings removed and trousers rolled up to his knees. “So that tail really is a part of you,” he said quietly, apparently having been examining it while she'd been washing Karkat's scent from her. 

“Part of your spine. Why isn't the fur your blood color?” 

Nepeta shrugged, standing un-self consciously in the waist-deep water closer to the shore. “Mine's white, dunno why. Meulin's fur is grey and spotty, and mom's is black. Probably because of our fur when we're fully shifted.” 

He made a questioning noise, so she kept talking. 

“Right now I'm not shifted at all. This is just me, just Nepeta. Half shift, my teeth and claws grow, my eyes change color and glow. I'm faster and stronger in half shift, heal better. Full shift I don't look like a troll at all. I look like a much, much bigger junglecat...just way cooler.” 

She smirked when he chuckled. It felt strange to be explaining these things to someone – her family just _knew_. It was instinctive. But Meulin had told her that it was important to make good friendly relationships with these trolls, because they would go back to their village and talk about them. If they were going to establish trading and territory boundaries, it would be good to be on friendly terms. 

But Sollux just nodded as if all that made perfect sense to him, which it should, since it made perfect sense to Nepeta. She stiffened slightly when Karkat made an appearance, shuffling up to stand next to Sollux and pointedly averting his eyes from her naked form. 

“You act like you've never seen skin before,” she teased him, and Sollux lisped out a snicker. To be fair she was mostly covered anyway – her long, wild hair was wet and matted against her skin, hiding anything that would be offending poor delicate Karkat. “This is how I live all the time. Again, you're the one being weird here.” 

“You heard her, KK. Get naked.” Sollux practically sing-songed, earning himself a cuff on the shoulder from a flustered Karkat. He ignored it. “Adopt her customs, you're being a really shitty guest.”

“Sollux, I'll kill you horribly and tell the village that you got eaten by something,” Karkat growled, and Nepeta's eyes widened as the vibrations of it rolled over her skin. Her ears twitched toward the sound, tuning out Sollux's teasing laughter in order to focus on Karkat's snarling, the timbre of it striking chords she didn't even know she had. 

She turned and submerged herself in the waterfall's tumbling surge again, cooling her rapidly heating skin. _What was going on._

\---

“Oh, poor kitten,” Meulin crooned, smoothing her sister's hair away from her heated forehead. “This is actually really lucky! There are other trolls here, you can ride out your first heat without wanting to die.” 

“I don't want either of them,” Nepeta whined, “They're weak and don't even know how to hunt. They're not even weres! They smell bad.” 

Meulin laughed, threading her fingers through her younger sister's hair. “From the way you've been acting around him I'd think you like the shouty one's smell.” 

“If you think that you're stupid. Stupid and dumb.” 

“Thank you. I love you, too.” 

Nepeta huffed, refused to be lured out of her thoroughly satisfying pout. The sooner mom came back and led Karkat and Sollux back to Skaia the better – Nepeta would endure her first heat just like she'd always planned, by ripping into a massive dangerous angry animal and battling it to the death and then eating it raw. 

She'd been avoiding the trolls for the past two days. Felide had been gone for about a week, but Nepeta and Meulin wouldn't worry until it had been about three. They were happily subsisting on the meat from the junglecats, their skins prepped to be turned into pelts and leathers to be carted back to Skaia as an offering of friendship. Meulin was also preparing some jerky as well, which Nepeta suspected may be the bigger hit. 

Karkat was hard to avoid, though. For as noisy as he could be was he was terribly hard to shake once he had it in his mind to find you, and Nepeta had resorted to running along outside the walls of the tower, leaping from tree branch to tree branch and taking refuge in the canopy where he couldn't reach her. It was humiliating to be hiding from a weakling that couldn't even hunt to feed himself, but his scent was overpowering. 

Not that Nepeta had any real problems with rutting with one of them. There was a large difference between mating and Mating, and there was no danger of the second occurring. It was just that neither were _worthy_. They hadn't brought her any courting gifts of meat or skins or fresh kills, or spilled their blood for her to adorn her face and wrists. They hadn't offered to be covered in her scent or marked or claimed, and it was highly frustrating to reign in the Were when Karkat leaned into her personal space to deliver another lecture on the fine points of moirallegiance. 

She'd voiced her concerns to Meulin, who'd shook her head and flicked her on one of her horns. “They don't know they're supposed to do that, silly,” her sister had told her, and seemed unamused when Nepeta had retorted, “Then they have no business mating with me!” 

“If you're done, I have to go skin the last junglecat. Somebody has to make sure we're all fed around here,” Meulin teased good naturedly, shooing her baby sister off of her lap and slinking down the stairs. With Felide gone the every day maintenance of their family fell on Meulin, who was more than happy to play Matriarch in their mother's absence. 

Nepeta slunk after her on all fours, nipping at her heels playfully. 

Sollux and Karkat were lazing on some pelts out by the waterfall when Nepeta finally relented and went to go check on them. Or rather, Sollux was sprawled out and seemingly napping, and Karkat was nowhere to be found. 

“Where's grumpy?” Nepeta asked, settling down on her stomach beside the lanky troll. Sollux cracked open one eye to peer at her, smirking in greeting. “Gone fishing. Has it in his head that he needs to prove something.” 

“Good luck with that,” she mumbled, mostly to hear Sollux snort. His scent wasn't nearly as pervasive and irritating at Karkat's, though it did crackle strangely in her nostrils. That was no doubt due to his mysterious 'psionics', which he'd demonstrated to the three weres by levitating a large chunk of stone off of the floor and scaring the everliving shit out of everyone that wasn't Karkat. 

Speaking of the other troll, he emerged from the pool in a rush of water, a flopping, very upset fish clasped in one clawed fist. He seemed pleased to see Nepeta there, because he threw the fish at her, braying a laugh when it smacked wetly against her face. 

“There! How's THAT for not being able to feed myself! Caught you lunch, you're _welcome_. You can start singing my praises any time now.” 

She stared at the offended fish, speechless. It twitched and spasmed, and she put it out of its misery with a quick blow to the head, crushing it with an unsteady fist. 

“She just punched your gift in the skull, KK, I don't think she's impressed.” Sollux chortled, though he eyed her carefully, as if waiting for a reaction. 

Nepeta was breathless. Karkat had...hunted for her? Brought her a meal, given her a gift. She'd had to kill it herself, technically, but it would have died anyway had she left it to flop about for much longer. She raised wide, faintly glowing eyes to stare at Karkat, eyebrows arched up almost to her hairline. Did he know? He couldn't possibly. She hadn't told him. But the way Sollux was looking at her, quietly anticipatory, and from the way Karkat's heart hammered uncertainly, she knew. 

_Meulin._

She took the fish in her mouth and took a massive bite, swallowing it raw and bloody. Karkat made a grossed out noise, but she ignored it, proceeding to pick around the bones to finish the rest of the offering, skin and all. When it was nothing but bones and teeth she flung the remains back at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

Sollux said something off to the side, but her attention was focused on Karkat, who now looked incredibly unsure of himself. 

“Fine. I'll wear your blood,” she hissed, “but you have to wear my scent _first_.” 

“Holy shit,” Sollux wheezed. “KK holy shit.” 

Karkat, to his credit, only looked mildly terrified as he stepped out of the water, and Nepeta advanced on him, fisting her claws in the fabric of his shirt and hauling him toward her. She pressed her nose to the side of his throat, inhaling deeply, and then trailed along to behind his ear, tail lashing. He made no move to stop her, but did settle his hands on her hips, claws scraping gently through the fur of the pelt she wore. 

She laved her tongue along the column of his neck, and shoved herself flush to him, rubbing her hands along his arms and sides. She nipped at his jawline, and he gasped, but didn't move, only shivering when she ran her fingers over his horns, through his hair. She sniffed down the line of his sternum, dropping to her knees in order to rub along his legs, and butted her head against his hip, his hands settling awkwardly on her shoulders. 

Sollux sounded like he was about to hyperventilate by the time Nepeta pulled away, her expression fierce. “You smell like me, and that means you're mine. No more getting in the water, or I'll have to do that again.” 

With that, she spun and jolted into the air, claws finding purchase in the bark of the nearest tree, which she promptly climbed, ascending up and away and out of sight. 

“KK, what the fuck,” Sollux hissed, and Karkat just stared at the spot that she'd disappeared from, cheeks flushed a solid red.


	4. Smell good enough to eat.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta finds it's getting harder and harder to not be an instinct-driven idiot.

Meulin just stared at her open-mouthed, a piece of meat forgotten halfway to her lips. “I didn't tell him anything,” she said a second time, eyes wide with surprise. “I figured you would if you wanted to.” 

Well. Fuck. 

“He brought me a fish and I ate it raw like I was supposed to!” Nepeta could feel the beginnings of a freak out stirring in the back of her brain, and refused to acknowledge it. “He stood there and let me scent mark him! I thought he knew! I thought you'd told him!” 

Her sister just shook her head again, stuffing the rest of the jerky into her mouth and chewing contemplatively. Nepeta watched the working of Meulin's jaw with a growing sense of unease, and grabbed on to the long locks of hair on either side of her own face, tugging at them. 

“Didn't say anything,” Meulin repeated. “Maybe he just likes you.” 

Did trolls have similar mating habits to weres? Well, Nepeta WAS a troll, kind of, mostly. She just had additional were biology and that was kind of a big huge deal. Felide had told her that the heats were instinct-driven, that her behavior leading up to and during would be guided by whatever was in her brain telling her to do it. She knew that non-were trolls were mostly the same way in that regard, making their attachments and relationships from instinctive urges. 

What she DIDN'T know was if the general courtship behaviors were the same, and that was...pretty damn important. 

“You could always talk to HIM instead of attacking me in the middle of my lunch,” Meulin suggested, not very subtly. 

Nepeta grunted, wishing that her mother were home already. Felide would have all the answers, like she always did. 

“Look, Nep, if you wanna mate with him just do it. If he runs away during that's his own death wish.” Meulin gestured idly with a second piece of jerky, catching her sister's eye. “First heats are meant to be messy and stupid. Nobody's is perfect and who cares if you skip something on accident. Just do what your body tells you to, that'll make it a lot easier.” 

The older were pinned her with a look and added on, “And let's not forget that you're lucky to even have a potential mate around in the first place. I suffered through my first heat alone, and it was horrible.”

Nepeta remembered the yowling and winced. 

“So, shoo,” Meulin reached forward and planted a hand on Nepeta's hip, shoving her toward the staircase and ignoring the way that the girl swatted at her. “Leave me alone, I want to take a nap.” 

Rudely dismissed, Nepeta tromped her way down a flight of stairs or two, nose lifted in the air in order to scent out where their 'guests' were currently wasting their time. Sollux and Karkat were rarely separate, probably out of a perceived sense of greater safety in numbers. They had taken to sleeping in the same room, though on separate piles of furs, Sollux almost always near a window and Karkat in a dark corner. They'd bathe and eat around the same times, always within arm's reach of one another, though Nepeta couldn't smell any sexual intent wafting off either one of them. For each other, anyway. 

Romantic either, for that matter. She supposed that they had reached a similar level of comfort that she felt with her sister and mother. Perhaps they considered themselves family. 

She eventually found them outside in the clearing around the tower, Sollux launching bits of stone and wood into the air with his psionics, forcing Karkat to leap and dodge. Nepeta settled onto her haunches to watch after a perfunctory patrol of the area and selecting an appropriate boulder to perch on. 

They hadn't noticed her, which was amusing since she'd made no attempts at being unseen, but that just meant they were focused on...whatever it was they were doing. 

Red and blue light sparked and crackled around a section of gnarled dead tree root, ripping it from the ground in a shower of dirt. It spun to face jagged-side toward Karkat, and then was suddenly thrown, Nepeta's ears twitching at the sound of wind whistling past it as it hurtled toward the troll. 

He leaped backward and kicked out, knocking the root away with a strike of his foot, one arm flowing upward to deflect a spray of smaller twigs that Sollux had lobbed his way. The taller troll was ruthless, volleying his friend with whatever his psionics seemed to grasp first, showering Karkat with crumbling bits of stone and thorned vines, face impassive and neutral. 

None of them hit their mark, however. Karkat flowed and leaped and rolled, sometimes batting things out of the air before they could reach him, spinning out of the way of larger projectiles. His hands seemed to keep flickering to his waist out of habit, but whatever weapons they were reaching for were absent. 

Nepeta had taken to lounging on her belly, bare skin fused to the boulder, the mid afternoon sun bathing her back in its warmth. She supposed that the heat could perhaps be oppressive to the other trolls, who both seemed to be drenched with sweat, but to her it just felt wonderful. She watched Karkat with a kind of lazy appreciation, impressed with his agility. For such a stocky troll he certainly could move. 

The duo paused for a breather, Sollux rubbing delicately at his horns and sighing, cursing the heat. Karkat shrugged out of his shirt entirely, dropping it to the ground in a sweaty heap. Nepeta's eyebrows rose as she shamelessly perused the exposed skin, mapping out the play of muscle and scars. A solid troll indeed, but not quite as big as his baggy shirt made him seem. The wind shifted enough that she was now downwind of them, and she froze, the musky scent of Karkat's sweat heavy in her nose. Her stomach lurched and she panted for breath, cheeks aflame with a flush that hadn't been there even seconds ago. 

Ughn, it was heady. Thick and masculine, salty and tinged with something that Nepeta couldn't place but it made her toes curl. 

She groaned, eyes fluttering at the abrupt wall of scent that had smacked into her. Her mouth watered, tongue pushed up against fangs that had elongated. They still hadn't seemed to notice her, having gone back to their game, and now she watched with much more rapt attention, eyes following Karkat as he dodged and slid. 

The muscles of his back and shoulders heaved and stretched, and she drank it in, admiring the strength in his legs as he leaped straight up into the air in order to avoid a blast of blue light. Apparently Sollux had run out of things to throw. 

Karkat landed in a crouch, palms braced on the ground as he glared at Sollux, breathing raggedly. Nepeta savored the uneven sound of his panting, leaning forward on her boulder, straining to get just a bit closer, just a little...

She toppled off of her perch with a shocked yowl, hitting the ground on her shoulder and grunting. Sollux dropped his friend from the grip of his psionics in surprise, Karkat braving the five foot drop like it was something he did every day. 

“When'd she get here?” Sollux asked, but was largely ignored, Karkat too intent on watching the way Nepeta's face had ignited in embarrassment, and Nepeta too busy being mortified to be able to speak. “You okay?” Karkat managed, but all he got was a strange trilling kind of whine in reply. 

Nepeta hauled herself to her feet, shaking her head and rubbing at her shoulder. It had been dislocated in the fall, but she'd been able to pop it right back into place. It'd stop hurting in a minute. She wasn't sure she'd ever stop feeling awkward, though, not quite being able to believe that she'd been so enraptured in the way that Karkat smelled that she had _fallen off of a boulder_. She had perfect balance! It was a _thing_ with werecats! They didn't just go around falling off of things because someone's sweat smelled like sex and it tugged at her, made her teeth itch. 

“Hey, uh – Oh, shit, woah,” Karkat rambled, watching the blotchy discoloration of the bruise on Nepeta's shoulder fade away. “That was amazing.” 

She shrugged, furious with herself for inching closer, for ducking her head in order to scent him better. Her tail lashed behind her, slapping against the backs of her calves and the sides of her thighs. She was vaguely aware of the way Sollux was snickering, and how his scent was retreating, disappearing into the stone-smoke-home-family smell of the tower. 

“You move well,” she finally bit out, eyes darting up to take in the surprised pinched expression on his face. “I like the way you move. You look strong.” 

He seemed to preen at that, but caught himself, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing. She found herself pressed up against him before she was aware of moving, ducking underneath the loose fold of his arms and burrowing her nose into his neck, clawed fingers gripping the hard muscle of his shoulders. He was tense against her, uncertainty and the first strains of panic wafting off of him, and she hissed when he began moving away, keeping her grip on his shoulders.

“I wonder,” she muttered, “If you're strong enough.” 

“I'm insulted by that,” he growled back, taking another step away from her. She moved with him, nuzzling her nose along the line of his jaw with a rapturous sigh. 

“You smell so good,” she purred, relishing the flood of heat that came off his skin when he flushed. With every breath she took she inhaled his scent, and was dizzy with it. She dipped her head to lap at the line of his collarbone, sweat and salt dancing on her tongue. She wanted more. 

Karkat squawked when she dragged her tongue in a line across one of his pecs, arms moving to lock around the back of his neck. Nepeta shifted flush against him, purring throatily when the skin of their stomachs touched. 

“Nepeta,” he wheezed, and she chirped in response, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. “Nepeta, what the fuck?! I! – you! – what! – Nepeta!” 

He grabbed her by the biceps and peeled her off of him, holding her at arm's length. She mewled, straining forward, but he just shook her a little, red all the way up to his ears. “You had better start explaining what the fuck is going on before I start losing all my shit. All of it. Is this some freaky were thing? Or do you just lick people and come on to them all the time?” 

Nepeta had no idea. Maybe she would, if they all smelled and tasted as good as he did. She'd have to lick Sollux later and find out. 

“What were you muttering about earlier? About me being strong enough? Because I'm telling you right fucking now that I am a motherfucking champion of STRONG, and any nookwhiff who says otherwise is a thrice damned liar.” 

Mmhm. Whatever you say, Karkat. She just wanted to get closer. Why was he holding her away? 

“Do you need help with something? Is some kind of monstrous bear demon threatening your territory? Are you and Meulin in a fight for dominance since your mom's been away? Is it a full moon soon? What the fuck is happening?” 

She wriggled out of his grip and plastered herself against him again, mouthing at the junction between his neck and jaw. Her fangs were elongated and sharp, but she was careful with them. She didn't want to spill his blood just yet. 

“Oh my fucking shit is this some kind of sex thing? Is this a freaky werecat sex thing? Nepeta, shit, stop biting me, oh fuck. SOLLUX!”

She hissed at the crackling of psionics that crawled over her skin, and she twisted to bare her teeth at the yellowblooded troll as he lifted her away from Karkat and into the air, where she hung suspended by red and blue light and sparks. How dare he! 

Nepeta thrashed with a furious screech, nearly doing a flip from the force of her movements. Sollux stared up at her with a shit-eating smirk, while Karkat was hurriedly pulling his rumpled and still sweat-damp shirt back on. Meulin had appeared beside Sollux, and was grinning to herself, one hand braced on Sollux's shoulder. 

“We have a lot to discuss. Bring her upstairs, please?” 

“My pleasure,” the lanky troll drawled, waving a hand at Karkat to precede him inside. 

Once she got down Nepeta was going to bite Sollux right on his stupid pointy nose.


	5. Seriously, is that ink or blood.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat gets a lot of exposition on exactly what courtship entails for a werecat.

Doused with cold water from the pool and tied down to a rough-hewn wooden stool with Sollux's stupid cheating brain powers, Nepeta decided that she hated approximately everything. She hissed furiously at Meulin when her sister settled down next to her and ran a hand through her hair, clucking her tongue worriedly. 

“The first heat is always one of the worst, mom says. We don't know what to expect so it sneaks up on us.” Meulin sniffed delicately at Nepeta, choosing to ignore the flash of fangs. “The mix of strong hormones and instinct make us kind of crazy.” 

“She'd have to be crazy to want to rub up on KK,” Sollux said to no one in particular, snickering when Karkat jabbed him in the ribs. 

“It seems to me like she's fixated on his scent, since she's more or less ignoring you.” Meulin gave Sollux a considering look, as if pondering her sister's strange choices, and then shrugged. “She doesn't want to hurt him, but might get violent if things don't go her way.” 

“That's seriously shitty,” Karkat grumbled, leaning against the wall of the room they'd retired to in order to have what was potentially the most awkward conversation of his life. “I don't get a choice in this at all? She's just going to keep stalking me through the jungle and biting on me with her werecat teeth until this fucking biological abomination passes?” 

Meulin's expression seemed to indicate that yes, that was exactly what was going to happen. 

“Don't know why you're complaining, KK, you've been hard up for her since the first night.” Sollux shrugged one shoulder, watching Nepeta thrash and fuss against her bonds. “Kept me up for hours ranting about how your life was a romcom because you were falling for a feral jungle girl and you're from the Big City.” 

Karkat glowered but didn't seem to have a retort, avoiding the eyes of everyone in the room. Nepeta could smell his discomfort, and she paused in her kicking and snarling in order to croon quietly to him. It was an attempt at comfort, but perhaps the fully exposed fangs and glowing eyes had something to do with the fact that he was not at all soothed. 

“So now she's practically culling herself trying to get at you. What's the problem?” Sollux squinted at him, seemingly genuinely confused. 

“The _PROBLEM_ is that she's not in her right mind!” Karkat finally snapped, and Meulin's ears flicked upright in surprise. “I don't want the first time anything happens to be because she's drugged up on my sweaty magnificence!” 

“To be fair, that's a big reason why we react to anything, really,” Meulin said mildly, amused. “Scent is a big deal when it comes to choosing our mates.” 

Nepeta chirred encouragingly when Karkat stepped closer to her, lifting her head in order to butt her horns gently against his stomach. “I guess that explains some of it, but I'm still pretty fucking confused,” he grunted out, mouth twisting into a frown when Nepeta nibbled on the hem of his shirt. 

“Well, mom says that when weres ran in larger groups, there were a set of behaviors and rules that we all played by when we wanted to court someone. Some things proved that you were a hunter that could feed a family, and others that you were strong enough to fight off any threats. There was an old ritual where you'd paint the blood of your intended mate on your face and arms and hands to display that you'd made a choice and you were proud of it.” Meulin rattled off what she knew, scratching absently at an itch behind one ear while she thought. 

“Nepeta has always insisted that she wanted to do things the old way, the _right_ way. Follow all the customs, stuff like that. But there just aren't any more weres around. Not here, anwyay.” 

Karkat nodded, soaking the information in. “What are the customs, then? I mean, excuse me if that's a really personal question or something, but that's actually really fucking fascinating.” 

Meulin tittered, shaking her head. “Nepeta thought I'd already told you anyway, so I may as well.” 

She signaled for them to wait where they were and disappeared up the staircase to her rooms. Karkat could hear her shifting around, quiet thunks and scraping sounds echoing down the stairs as she searched for...something. In the meantime, he found himself focused on Nepeta, who had for the most part calmed her rumble spheres. 

Blood trickled down the side of her mouth and chin from where she'd cut herself on one of her own fangs, but she didn't seem bothered, if she noticed at all. Really, he thought, she looked more tired than anything, her eyes half shut and posture drooping. Getting all hopped up on insane junglecat hormones that screamed at you to throw yourself at someone like you're in a fuck-or-die scenario had to be exhausting, not to mention all the flailing and general hissy-fit (hah) throwing she'd dished out. 

Meulin reappeared with a large book tucked under one arm, leaping down from a higher ledge and landing on a pile of furs with a quiet 'whoomf'. Sollux visibly flinched in surprise and Karkat happily laughed at his expense. 

She opened the tome and laid it out across her lap, licking one of her thumbs and beginning to flip through the pages. Her nose wriggled as dust stirred, bright eyes scanning page after page. To Karkat it seemed like they were moving impossibly fast, which didn't seem fair at all. 

“I figured it'd be easier for you to read it yourself,” Meulin announced, finally stopping on a page lettered in greenish ink. (At least, Karkat hoped that it was ink. The smell and color were slightly off, but...he just wasn't going to allow himself to wonder about it.) 

He leaned forward to take the book from Meulin, mutely impressed at how heavy it was. The page was emblazoned with the occasional doodle, a fish here and a string of teeth there, and odd swirls of random colors that continued to make him uncomfortable. The handwriting was scrawling and messy and spiky, but after a few moments of squinting and shifting the book from a few angles he was finally able to decipher it. 

 

_A mate is no good if it can't feed you. A mate is a bad mate if it can't protect you. Only choose a mate you are proud of. Take a mate that will make strong cubs._

_Bring your mate meat you hunted to prove that you are capable. They will eat it raw and lick up all the blood to show that they accept your skill._

_Go on a hunt with your mate and take down a big enemy on your own to show you are strong. They will make a trophy from the beast and wear it as proof of your strength._

_Wear your mate's colors to show that you are proud to be with them. They will do the same._

_The strongest cubs are made when the mother is in her heat. Strong mated pairs make the strongest cubs. The mother will drink the blood of her enemies to give her strength and skill to her cubs. The father will eat only raw meat during the heat, for energy._

Holy fuck that last one was some next level primal shit. 

_Courting gifts are important. Wooden beads and teeth from kills can be used in jewelry. Stone weapons and tools are traditional and useful gifts. Share your kills and food. Be generous._

_Trolls and humans have 'matesprits', not mates. The ideas are similar. If you are taking a troll or human as a mate, it is in the pride's best interest to bite and turn them. Speak to the matriarch in this case. She will make the choice._

Karkat looked up from the book and squirmed slightly under Meulin's expectant gaze. Nepeta seemed to have fallen asleep half-sprawled from her stool, Sollux having relaxed the psionic bonds. 

“She thought I'd already explained everything to you because you gave her that fish,” Meulin told him, motioning that she wanted the book back. “You have a lot to think on. I'll take my sister upstairs and put her in her sleeping furs.” 

The heavy tome under one arm and Nepeta tucked under the other like she was no more than a bundle of cloth, Meulin slunk upstairs, tail swaying slowly, the white tip disappearing into the darkness. Karkat hadn't noticed that the sun had set as he'd been reading, and as he slouched against the cool tower wall he dragged his palms down his face. 

Sollux's inquistive chirp got him a disgruntled sigh. 

“How is this my life?” Karkat muttered. He really didn't appreciate his friend's quiet hissing laughter. Given the circumstances it was highly inappropriate, and he should have more respect for his commander, damn it. 

“A jungle babe wants to have freaky werecat mating sex with you. What a terrible problem to have, woe is you.” 

If he ever found his sickles he was going to gut Sollux first thing. 

“Excuse the fuck out of you. Not all of us are raging perverts with our brains in our bulges. _I_ happen to have beautiful romantic aspirations and this is putting some serious kinks in them.” 

“Kinks, right. Blood play being one of them, yeah?” 

“Sollux, I will murder you and hang you upside down so that I can drain all of your bright mustardy blood into a bottle and then give it to Nepeta as a courting gift.” 

His friend didn't seem even moderately threatened, or impressed, damn him. “That's just kind of proving my point.” 

Karkat rolled over and faced the wall, hauling his favorite thick pelt over him and deciding that bed time was going to be _right the fuck now_. “I'll watch her smear you all over the walls and just laugh my glorious ass off. Shut the fuck up, I'm going to sleep.” 

Sollux didn't have a retort for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Momma Felide should be coming home soon, perhaps with a surprise! :D


	6. Nep's brain lives in the proverbial gutter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta flees into the jungle for a chance to clear her mind, and ends up doing the exact opposite.

When she'd woken up hours later she'd immediately absconded out of the nearest window, claws scrabbling against the overgrown ivy and vines on the outside tower walls. She needed to clear her mind and her nose, and that was impossible in the tower, where Karkat's scent had infused what seemed like every inch of stone. 

Really she'd only intended to do some prowling in the immediate area, but her body decided that it had other ideas, and she'd begun loping through the underbrush on all fours, eyes blazing in the darkness in order to light her way. Nepeta could see everything with perfect clarity, and the inky black of night may as well have been drenched in sunlight. Soon she fell into the rhythm of running, limbs churning and breath flowing evenly in and out, the breeze ruffling her hair. 

She only paused to stretch out a kink in her back when the familiar smell of the tower no longer registered. Rising up from the ground she reached her hands up into the air, clawing lazily at nothing as she arched and stretched. Moonlight dappled the ground where it shone through thinner patches in the tree canopy, illuminating the silent jungle scape that threatened to swallow her up. 

Fireflies danced in blinking patterns and she amused herself with darting after them, batting at their glowing bodies and giggling to herself. 

She stalked and pounced, letting out a shocked whoop of laughter when she went barreling over the edge of a deceptive hill, rolling quickly to the bottom and landing in a heap of some kind of berry bushes. Felide's scent clung to it in a whisper of smell, days old. Nepeta inhaled deeply anyway, rubbing her cheek against a clump of leaves. 

Tracking her mother seemed more interesting and distracting than leaping at fireflies. 

She fell back into the mechanical churning of running, having a specific scent to concentrate on (that wasn't _Karkat's_ ) doing wonders for her mental state. 

The whole thing was super unfair, really. She'd been all set to clobber her first heat with excessive violence and a refusal to be anything but a howling nightmare, but then two bumbling idiots had gotten themselves chased into her home by a pack of predators. She'd suspect meddling on her mother's part if it wouldn't be completely ridiculous to do so, and if the village they hailed from weren't so new. 

The sooner they went back the better, really. Nepeta was at a point where she couldn't even remember what it was like to not have Karkat's spicy personal scent permeating her nostrils and clogging up her brain with stupid. She'd discovered her bulge and nook sweeps ago and had by now mastered the art of entertaining herself, but the past few days had been forcing her to get creative. 

She'd entertained the idea of letting herself get caught by him in the middle of some play, half her hand shoved up her nook and her bulge thrashing angrily against her stomach. She'd imagined being smothered in the bright red of his blood (she could smell it under his skin, maddeningly gorgeous), his materials, his _colors_. Swathed and painted in beautiful breath taking _red_ , while she smoothed her own olive over his face, his lips, his throat. 

She'd daydreamed of holding him by the neck with her teeth as she sunk into him, claws raking his sides and thighs, driven herself to distraction by thinking of the sounds he'd make, keening whines and stubborn grunts. He was delightfully muscular, in a chiseled kind of way that spoke of sweeps of repetitive motion and merciless exertion. He'd move spectacularly beneath her, squirming and pressing against her own lithe huntress build, ultimately powerless for all of his strength. 

Her mouth watered at the thought, fangs pricking against her lower lip. Abruptly she realized that she was panting, and nearly shrieked with frustration. 

Nepeta halted and hissed, shaking herself roughly. She'd lost her mother's scent trail because of her mental wanderings and wasn't sure she'd be able to find it again without backtracking entirely. Howling, she flung herself into a nearby tree trunk, carving into it with her claws and biting angrily at the bark a few times until she felt less murderous. After a few minutes of petulant scraping she rested against the poor mutilated tree, marveling at how much better she felt for her temper tantrum. 

Kicking about in the underbrush to see if she could flush out any small animals to chase, she yelped when her bare toes caught the edge of something wickedly sharp, the tang of blood springing up into the air as it sliced through her skin. 

Nepeta bent down to investigate, eyes narrowing as the limited moonlight glinted off of something sleek and bright. Gripping the strange thing by its cold wooden handle she lifted it from the bushes that it had been hiding under, turning it back and forth in the light, watching it play off of the bizarre curved edge. 

She hissed some more when she caught the scent of Karkat soaked into the wood, ingrained there. Of fucking _course_ she'd find something that belonged to him out here, when she was running around in the night trying to avoid him. The cold sharp part that was glinting and kind of shiny smelled of old blood and the addition of her own, dripping slowly and dribbling over her fingers. 

Abruptly, it occurred to her that returning his lost weapon to him would be a fantastic courting gift. Meulin had doubtless explained everything to him by now, so the significance wouldn't be lost on him. 

Of course, the question of whether or not she even _wanted_ to court him remained. She was quickly running out of time to be able to think about it logically, as more and more hours of the day began to devote themselves to wanting to frantically rut him into the ground until they'd dug a hole to the other side of the world. 

Grumpily, she admitted to herself that she knew perfectly well that she wanted to court the shit out of Karkat. She wouldn't have zeroed in on his scent so obsessively if that weren't the case. But what if he didn't want to court her back? Weres never took unwilling mates, and courting was a two way process. Since being able to conceive from a heat was a conscious choice on the mother's part it was necessary to have a mate that would stick around to be a parent to the resulting cub. 

Giving up on the idea of tracking her mother down, Nepeta wheeled around to begin trotting back to the tower, pleased to note that her toe had already healed, fused back to the rest of her foot. The weapon had a strange weight, and didn't sit right in her palm like a dagger or spear would. She'd have to ask him all sorts of questions about it, especially about what it was made of. She'd never seen the bizarre gray material, whatever it was, and was captivated by how it shone dully. 

By the time she reached the tower the sun was peeking at her from the horizon. Apparently she'd gotten some serious distance while she'd been lost in her lusty meanderings. Meulin was awake already, or perhaps she hadn't slept either, curled in the entrance to the tower and watching her with interest. 

“I found his weapon,” Nepeta announced to her sister, giving it an experimental swing and shrieking when she nearly took her own hand off at the wrist. She dropped the horrible thing, hissing at it with her tail bottle-brushed out. Meulin had frizzed out as well in mutual shock, wide eyes fixated on the weapon that now laid innocently on the ground at Nepeta's feet. 

“It's gunna be a courting gift!” Bending, Nepeta picked it up again, gripping the handle tightly, lest it decide to jump at her again. “Since he knows what those are now.”  
Her sister hummed approvingly, sniffing at Nepeta's hair when the girl flopped against her side, weapon held pointedly away. She purred when Meulin half-shifted and began grooming her wild mane of hair, rough tongue curling through the strands and untangling the knots. 

When she woke later the sun was much higher in the sky, denoting that it was around noon. She'd twisted herself into a loose arc around Karkat's odd weapon, half laying on it. Olive blood stained the edges and really...the entire thing. She must have cut herself on it several times while she'd been sleeping. A quick perusal of her stomach showed a few rapidly healing scars.

Speaking of Karkat, he seemed to be hovering some small distance away, watching her with painfully obvious uncertainty. 

“How did you get my sickle?” 

Nepeta blinked at him, yawning widely and stretching the kinks out of her neck. “I found it in some bushes when I went on a run last night. Was going to gift it to you.” 

Karkat didn't think he'd ever get over how blunt she was. Just utterly no nonsense. A far cry from Terezi's constant need to speak in cackling riddles. It was refreshing, in a way. 

“I don't, uh, have anything for you,” he told her, scuffing his foot at the ground as she stood, sickle still clutched in one of her fists. She just shrugged and slunk over to him, thrusting the weapon forward towards him so that he could take it. 

“Shit, it's _covered_ in blood. How the fuck did you manage that? Did you just...roll around on it all night and decide that was a brilliant plan? Because good job, if that was your goal you succeeded.” 

Nepeta giggled at the rambling, shaking out her hair behind her. “It's a gift! And my blood. The next time you kill something with it, you'll be striking in my colors.” 

Damn him if that wasn't oddly romantic. Like killing in her honor, or glory, or something noble and awesome like that. He gladly took the sickle from her, the relief flooding him when its comforting weight was finally in his palm again nearly dizzying. “I'll have to smite down some horrible atrocity then, to make sure I strike the fear of you into its shriveled evil heart and make all your bleeding worth it.” 

The corniness of that statement was worth the bright fangy smile that lit up her face. Karkat Vantas, you're far gone. 

“So yeah, I'm...off to do that, I guess. Going to go hunt me a goddamn leviathan, drag it back on my shoulders and we'll eat for weeks. Just drowning in a sea of colorful monster blood, up to our fantastically weeping eyeballs in the tenderest, choicest cuts of horror rump.” 

Needless to say, Nepeta was beyond amused when Karkat turned up later with a full facial blush and a rabbit. That bubbling of happiness turned quickly to curiosity, however, when Felide returned at last, a strange adult troll in tow and bearing news of the village.


	7. Wow Karkat rude.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felide's guest turns out to be Carcin Vantas, head of the Church of the Signless in Alternia, the kingdom that the village was dispatched from. Nepeta has mixed feelings about him.

Karkat and Felide and the newest stranger had barricaded themselves up in the highest room of the tower, which did absolutely nothing to hide what they said from Nepeta and Meulin. Sollux, however, had to rely on their secondhand account, watching the pair as they huddled as close to the edge of the stairwell as they dared, Nepeta keeping up a steady murmur that Meulin repeated to him seconds later. 

Carcin had apparently been visiting the nascent village when Felide made her appearance with news of their wayward trolls, and taken an interest in the feral woman. They'd apparently had many discussions on their very different worlds and how they thought it would be more than possible to unite them peacefully. Felide wanted safety and the potential of family building for her daughters, and Carcin wanted to spread his message of complete acceptance and equality, regardless of what ran in your blood. 

“Carcin is the head of the Church of the Signless back in Alternia,” Sollux explained to them after Nepeta got thoroughly confused. “He's pretty important. Considered holy, all that buzz. He's basically all about peace and love and equality for everybody.” 

Well, that sounded nice. Nepeta could understand why her mother had fallen in with the idea. She'd lost all her family to an act of unfounded aggression, and had ached for peace ever since. 

Meulin purred contentedly, the sweet low timbre of the adult troll's voice lulling her into a sleepy kind of calm. Nepeta was more focused on the strain and terseness that lay in Karkat's tones, and the upset that seemed to radiate off of him. 

“YOU CAN'T TAKE THEM TO SKAIA!” 

Karkat's voice came _roaring_ down the staircase, bouncing and echoing off the walls and startling gasps and hisses from the gathered listeners. Nepeta was half way up a flight of stairs before she realized that she'd even moved, and she froze, quivering. Take them? To the village? _Why_? She was perfectly happy in her home, had lived here all her life, she didn't _want_ to leave, never!

Meulin whined quietly, mirroring her sentiments. After a moment of thick silence, Felide's voice came floating down. “Come on upstairs, the three of you. We all should be talking.” 

Sollux ushered a reluctant Meulin upwards, Nepeta leading their nervous group. She was the first to peer out onto the final landing, the large circular room that formed the highest point of the tower. Carcin was seated on one of their few wooden chairs, Felide lounging on a pile of furs and pillows beside him. Karkat had taken to pacing noisily off to the side, hands tugging at his hair. When he saw Nepeta he advanced on her and took hold of one of her biceps, dragging her closer to the adults. 

“Good to see you healthy and well, Sollux,” Carcin greeted the psionic, who nodded silently in return. Nepeta was deposited in front of him, and she blinked curiously at the seated troll, nose wriggling. Karkat hovered at her back, one hand braced on her shoulder. 

Carcin seemed to take his time looking her over, eyes kind and face relaxed. Felide didn't seem surprised by all the contact between the two, instead smiling somewhat smugly, giving off a pleased air. 

“You must be Nepeta, then. Felide has had much to say about your exploits and strengths. So has Karkat, actually. They both have glowing praise to give you.” 

She giggled, feeling the heat of Karkat's embarassed blush behind her. His hand was quickly removed from her shoulder, much to her disappointment. 

Carcin seemed to be built thinner than Karkat, though their horns were very similar, as well as the bright red of their eyes and blood. She could smell that they were related, probably father and son. The gray of his skin was somewhat darker, and much smoother, lacking any obvious or visible scars. He smelled _much_ calmer, and seemed to radiate peace, looking for all the world like he'd always been seated here in this room, surrounded by werecats. 

She couldn't smell blood on him like she could with Karkat, like he'd been habitually bathing in it. If anything, the older troll smelled like paper and books and ink, and oddly enough, like her mother. He wasn't spicy like his son, instead smooth and sweet, like milk. 

“Why are you here?” She eventually stated, crossing her arms over her chest. No matter how kind and nice this troll seemed to her nose he still wanted to take her and her sister away from their lifelong home, and that wasn't something to be taken lightly. And Sollux had said that he was the head of a religion – what if he wanted to convert them, or something? Make them civilized, good village citizens. Her lip lifted in a silent snarl, and she was given an amused look from Felide. 

Carcin didn't seem upset, however, and instead motioned for her to take a seat on any of the sprawled cushions and pillows. Meulin immediately complied, dragging Sollux down with her, while Nepeta remained standing, eyes narrowing. No, she'd stay as she was, thanks. Wasn't going to show any sign of weakness or submission. 

Karkat seemed to have the same idea, though he leaned against her back, his hair brushing the tip of her ear. 

“I wanted to meet the children that Felide missed so dearly and spoke of so highly. You are the lights of her life and as much as she liked the village, she needed to get back to you. I wasn't quite ready to see her go, and she had also told me that Karkat and Sollux were here. I wanted to see that they were happy and safe.” 

Carcin just continued to smile serenely at her for all of her posturing, which was starting to piss her off. Why wasn't he _afraid_?

“Why do you want to take us to the village?” She demanded, an edge of a snarl rising in her voice. Felide answered for him. 

“ _I_ want you to see the village, kitten. They badly need meat and pelts, as they don't know how to hunt in the jungle. I want you to teach them. They need our help, and I want my children to be the ones that help them.” 

Meulin chirped, signaling her approval of this plan. Nepeta was not so easily swayed. 

“I don't want to leave the tower.” “I don't want them in the village.” 

She and Karkat paused and looked at each other askance, both asking, “Why not?” 

Nepeta pulled away from him and stalked off to the side of the room, leveling the villagers with a furious glare. Karkat didn't _want_ her in the village? He didn't want her around? He just wanted her to be his jungle secret! Fine! He could go back to Skaia and ignore his mate and never see her or speak to her again, because Nepeta wasn't going to help that stupid village! Not ever!

“You and Meulin go! I won't!” She roared, whirling and leaping from the landing, plummeting down the endless drop in the center of the spiraling staircase. The free fall was exhilarating, but all it did was fan the flames of her anger. Her hip-pelt whipped wildly, hair flying around her face, but she couldn't find any of her usual joy in it. She could hear Karkat yelling after her, but he could be screaming his lungs out and she wouldn't care. 

He obviously didn't want her. 

\---

Felide found her sulking behind the waterfall about an hour later, hidden from sight and scent. She didn't meet her mother's eyes when she heard her coming, instead curling tighter into the defensive ball she'd adopted, as if she could cradle herself. 

The woman draped herself effortlessly over her daughter, tucking her chin over one shuddering shoulder, dipping down to lick away a tear. 

Felide didn't need to ask why she was crying, or hiding, or anything, really. Feeling rejected by one's mate-to-be was a heavy blow, and with the already tempestuous mix of emotions roiling around in Nepeta's heart and brain it was one that she couldn't stand back up from. Not right away. 

“Would you like to know what he meant?” She asked instead, nuzzling her nose against the girl's cheek. Nepeta didn't answer, which was unsurprising. Felide forged ahead anyway. 

“He was worried some of the stupider ones would try to prove their strength against you, and that you'd embarrass them. He didn't want you to make his troop think they were weaklings.” Nepeta snorted at that, but otherwise remained silent, content to just listen. 

“Apparently he also has a kismesis in the village, and was concerned that if you saw them interacting you'd attack and harm her beyond the boundaries of that relationship.” 

Of course he had another mate waiting for him back home. A hatemate, but...still. She grumbled something incoherent and rolled into her mother's embrace, smothering her face against the woman's chest, which smelled strangely of Carcin. 

“Why do you smell like the priest?” she mumbled, unwilling to admit that the blending of his scent and her mother's personal one was oddly soothing. 

“I took him as my mate. Couldn't help myself, really, he was just too handsome.” 

Nepeta squealed when Felide rolled her over, mouthing playfully at her jaw and neck. “He's a wonderful lover. I hope he taught his son all his skills.” 

“MOM.” 

“Come visit the village with us, kitten. It won't be permanent. They are close to starving because they're too dumb to find meat, and without pelts they'll freeze in the winters. Plus they have all different kinds of food that you'll like. You can still court Karkat on the road and while we're there. The stupid boy is losing his mind thinking that you're mad at him and not being able to find you to explain himself.” 

“Good. I hope he steps in something gross.” 

“Nepeta.” Felide snickered, headbutting her youngest daughter fondly. 

“I need you with me, kitten-mine. I missed you so much I nearly had to have a third cub just to make up for the loneliness. You'll be unhappy in this tower by yourself with your mother and sister gone. We're not meant to be alone.” 

Nepeta mulled that over, chewing absently on a curl of her mother's hair. It was an appealing idea, hunting for a whole village of trolls and people that needed her otherwise they'd starve. Teaching them like the littlest of kittens when they were grown adults was kind of hilarious. 

Plus she wanted to meet that Zahhak troll, that Karkat and Sollux had said was so strong. That detail had stuck with her, for some reason. 

“Fine,” she grumbled, giggling when Felide peppered her face with kisses. 

“I knew I had a smart daughter. Come in for dinner, Nep, we need to talk about making travel preparations and I'm putting you in charge of hunting.” 

Nepeta slunk after her mother, fondly nipping at the woman's swaying tail until she was smacked in the face with it. She ignored Karkat entirely once they were inside despite how much it stung, far too amused with his shattered expression to just forgive him right away. 

Carcin chuckled when Felide crawled into his lap, wrapping one arm around the woman and smiling at his son's raised eyebrow. 

“I'm glad you're here, Nepeta. Now tell me, how many beasts do you think you could hunt in a day?”

This troll had no idea. No idea at all. She settled down onto a cushion with her back to Karkat and hummed pleasantly, tilting her head to one side. 

“Well, depends on how big they are!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, I'll admit it. I'm guilty of some Karkat/Terezi hateshipping. I like to entertain the idea that there was a flushed entanglement that went super badly and they flipped to pitched. :3 
> 
> In case you're curious, Sollux's only quadrant as of now is his diamond with Aradia, while Karkat is in spades with Terezi and undergoing some pale leanings towards Kanaya. :) And his weird awkward flushed business with Nepeta, of course. :P
> 
> I may as well lay out the rest of my shipping designs at some point because most of them are minor and won't be in the main tags, since I don't want people to be searching for 'JohnDave' and then getting this story, which really has...nothing to do with JohnDave, not really. Maybe I'll do that on my tumblr. 
> 
> As always, thanks for commenting and kudo-sing! It makes my heart happy!


	8. The Village People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carcin talks Nepeta's ears off about the village, and who lives there.

Felide had kitted out her little family before they began their journey, bustling and hustling and frothing up a storm of productivity. Meulin had spent most of the three weeks of their mother's absence finishing Nepeta's new head-dress, as well as a new pair of leather breeches for herself. Tanned skins were heaped up in the small wagon that Carcin had brought with him, along with bundles of jerky and shaggy pelts, wooden bowls and a large sheet of raggedy cloth that had been filled with dried fish and tied off. 

Some were travel provisions, but most of the wagon's load was intended for Skaia and her hungry villagers. The wagon's yoke was currently resting on Nepeta's capable shoulders and she was more than happy to lug it along, enjoying the strange rolling clack of the wooden wheels as she pulled it. Karkat kept shooting her incredulous glances as she skipped along, the over-loaded wagon skimming after her like it contained only fairy dust. 

Carcin ambled at the front of their group, hand in hand with Felide, who was their guide. Her mother kept pointing out the various fauna and edible flora, while Meulin excitedly scribbled the information down on loose leafs of paper that Carcin had brought with him, for later village perusal. 

Sollux had offered to just levitate the wagon, but Nepeta knew that he often over stressed himself and his psionics – whenever he was nearing his limit she could smell the strongly sparking fatigue emanating from him. It smelled like burning. 

“There's a river we're gunna have to cross in about a day or so,” she informed the lanky troll with a sharp grin. “You could float it over the water, that'd be great.” 

They were the best expedition party. It was them. 

They crested a steep hill and Karkat huffed in concern when Nepeta leaned her back against the wagon so that it couldn't careen downhill, taking careful and deliberate steps with the weight straining against her shoulders and neck. “That can't be good for you. Let me help.” He made an attempt at nudging her to the side in order to take up some of the burden, but she just shoved him back with her hip, shaking her head. Nope, this was her job. For now. Eventually she and Meulin would trade off. 

“It would crush you, Karkitty.” She grunted out, shooting him a wink to take the sting out of her words. 

He muttered something about 'Equius is going to _keel over and die_ ' under his breath, but kept plodding along beside her all the same, kicking rocks and stray clumps of mud and dirt out of her way. 

Up ahead, Felide giggled throatily, leaning over and planting her lips on Carcin's cheek. The thrill of happiness that wafted off the troll was delicious, and she breathed it in deeply, pleased that her mother had found someone that made her happy. She could hear Meulin purring from somewhere behind the wagon, and Karkat's sputtering. He was feigning disgust, but he gave off a sweet scent of tenderness. 

Softie.

Meulin trotted up to poke her in the ribs, indicating that it was her turn to take the wagon as soon as the ground leveled out and it'd be safe to switch over. It was _really_ supposed to be Felide's turn, but she was too wrapped up in playing field guide to pull herself away from Carcin. Nepeta giggled to herself, and Meulin sighed softly, enraptured with the unfolding romance. 

“Do you think I'll find a mate in the village, Nep?” She murmured for her sister's ears alone, lips barely parting. This wasn't a conversation for the rest of their party to hear. Nepeta hummed thoughtfully, chewing on her lower lip. “Maybe. Lots of trolls and humans. Would be your best chance, I'd guess.” 

Once they were on more or less flat ground again Nepeta hefted the guide poles up off of her shoulders and held them up so that Meulin could slip under them. Her sister pecked her on the forehead as she accepted the burden, and shooed Nepeta away. 

“We'll stop for dinner soon, kittens,” Felide called over her shoulder, tail swaying. “Nepeta, dear daughter of mine, go find us something, mm?” 

She didn't need to be asked twice. She jumped up and snagged her new head dress from the wagon, pulling it on over her horns. The cascade of shaggy white fur ran down her back, the trailing paws draped over her shoulders. The ex-beast's long, sharp saber fangs framed her cheek bones and ended well past her chin, its gaping maw pulled snug down on her head. It was magnificent. 

“I can't believe you're wearing a dead thing on your head like a hat,” Karkat grumbled at her, and she giggled. “I'm a ferocious huntress! I slip through the jungle like a ghost, haunting my prey~.” 

With that image, she leaped off into the dense foilage, well pleased with Karkat's shouting behind her. She wouldn't go too far – didn't want to lose their scent, after all. 

Nepeta bounded through the growth, the stark white pelt draped over her like it was a second and much furrier skin. Strings and strings and strings laden with teeth bounced against her chest, rattling against one another in a macabre kind of cadence. It was her favorite kind of music. 

She slowed to a deliberate slink, shoulder blades shifting slowly as she began to prowl, having picked up the scent of a small herd of deer-like creatures. 

The jungle was full of the strangest animals. Predominately massive and white and with blood all the colors of the rainbow. These ones had the bodies of deer but with the huge curling horns of rams, and razor sharp hooves that could cut stone like fat. Three sets of twitching ears sprouted from beneath the horns, male and female alike, and Nepeta knew that meant she had to be absolutely silent. 

They'd stopped and gathered around a smallish pool of water, drinking peacefully. A few mothers stood with their fawns at their sides, horns tiny and nubby. They made her think of Karkat, but she didn't dare laugh, no matter how badly she wanted to. 

A preposterously huge buck seemed to be lording over the herd, and as much as she craved to bring him down and haul his rack back to Karkat, or maybe Felide, he'd be too much meat for their party, and they had no way to preserve the excess for the rest of their journey, which her mom said would take about two more days. 

Regretfully, she turned her focus to a much younger buck, still too little to pose any threat, but big enough to be meaty. His horns weren't nearly as impressive, but they'd do. Target gained, she resumed her slinking, moving with absolute silence through the undergrowth. 

Whatever flashes of white fur they may have seen through the dense foliage wouldn't alarm them – they'd assume she was one of their own. At least, until she got close enough for them to smell her. She was currently down wind, which was working magnificently in her favor. She crept closer and closer to the young buck, watching the suspicious flickering of his ears. Some members of the group had settled down for sleep or naps, while others grazed lazily. 

Gathering herself into a crouch, Nepeta half-shifted, claws raking into the earth. Her fangs grew and curved past her lower lip, and her eyes brightened and narrowed, slit pupils shrinking in her focus. With a whisper of a breath, she sprung, flowing through the air and slamming into the young male, sinking her foot claws into his sides and wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight. The buck began thrashing and leaping, kicking his back legs out wildly and he brayed in undulating panic. 

The rest of his herd abandoned him promptly, scattering in a multitude of directions. A victorious cry ripped itself from her throat as she buried her fangs into the buck's neck and ripped messily, his rusty blood spurting and fountaining. She chomped at him again fiercely, mostly just for fun, before she twitched her arms and snapped his neck, falling with him when he dropped like a stone. 

She lapped some of the blood from her lips, happily rolling around in the pool of it that was rapidly forming from the lacerations. The more blood she got in the pristine fur of her new head dress the better – Felide's was surely drenched in blood that was older than even Meulin. After taking a moment to congratulate herself on a successful hunt Nepeta bent and hauled the buck's broken body onto her shoulders, straightening and hoofing it (Ahaha! She was so smart~) back to the wagon and her family and friends. 

When Sollux saw her he gave a shuddering gasp, staring at her with wide and panicky eyes. She chirred at him in confusion, dumping the buck near her mother's feet. 

“That is a shit ton of blood,” he said weakly, though his attention seemed to be riveted on the buck's horns. Karkat seemed similarly disturbed, eyebrows knitted together into a solid line. Geeze. If this was how they reacted every time she went and hunted to feed their dumb bellies then they could just go hungry. 

“That's his moirail's blood color and horn shape,” Carcin said helpfully, peeling himself from Felide's side so that he wouldn't get any blood on him when she began skinning dinner. 

Oh. Well, that made sense, then. “Do you want the horns to give to her?” Nepeta offered, not sure if pale relationships made those kind of gestures. “I was going to give them to Karkat, but it doesn't look like he wants them.” 

“I don't,” Karkat said quickly, looking vaguely ill. 

Sollux seemed to be considering the idea though, a hand to his sharp chin. “She does like weird gory things like that,” he mused, tilted his head in thought. “Ara'd probably think it was funny.” 

'Ara' sounded like her kind of girl, Nepeta mused. They could roll in dead things together. 

“Take 'em, then.” She said generously, bumping her hip gently against Sollux as she passed him. “If moirails don't give each other gifts, maybe they should start! Presents are great!” 

If Karkat saw her pointed look, he didn't give her any indication that he'd caught her not-so-subtle hint. He did, however, take the chance to educate her on moirail habits. “They DO give gifts. Not usually dead things, but, yeah.” 

“I'd want my moirail to like dead things,” Nepeta announced, purring smugly when Carcin gave her an amused look. 

\---

There had been little issue with fording the river the next day, as Sollux had levitated the wagon like they'd discussed. Meulin was taking the opportunity to stretch and rub out her shoulders. She wasn't quite as hardy as Nepeta – maybe it came with the territory of being willowy and tall. 

Whatever. Nepeta would take being short and a powerhouse over being tall any day. It wasn't like she couldn't just jump to get whatever she wanted. 

It turned out that Carcin actually didn't know how to swim, so he was ferried across on Felide's shoulders, which was an interesting image. Nepeta had shot Karkat a sly glance, but he'd simply strapped his sickle to its holster on his belt and forged ahead, apparently at home in the water. Sollux floated himself over instead of getting wet, looking rather haughty about the whole thing. 

Felide finally deigned to take a turn with the wagon, shooing Meulin away from the yoke when they'd all reached the other side of the river. Nepeta took her mother's place at the front of the party, eager to hear more about Skaia now that they were creeping closer. 

Carcin had a lot to say about it, and she drank the information in. 

There were a lot of trolls and humans living there, using all their various skills and know-how to build it from the ground up. They'd brought stone and brick with them, but their architect had quickly learned that acceptable brick could be made from the local mud and cut from the boulders they were hauling away from the village site. 

Domesticated animals were watched after by someone called a 'summoner' and his two sons, who could apparently commune with them! That was probably the coolest thing that Nepeta had ever heard – she only hunted animals, and had always wished that she could talk to them. 

There were plans to build a church and a library, and a blacksmith was in the works. Rudimentary huts had been set up for immediate shelter, as well as a large central kitchen and bakery, where they all ate their daily meals. Because Skaia's location had been placed near a coastline they were in possession of the two ships that had brought them over, and a fishing boat. Nepeta didn't know what a 'ship' or 'boat' was, but apparently they were wooden houses that floated on water and could take you across the ocean!

Perhaps the most amazing thing, however, was when Carcin mentioned their 'seer', a woman who could tell the future! So far she was around for predicting natural disasters and mixing up concoctions and potions for every little thing – curing sickness, adding flavor to food and drink, alleviating fatigue and stress, and, (Carcin said this with a mischievous grin) ones that could even make you fall in love. 

He teased that maybe Felide had slipped one into his evening meal, but Nepeta didn't believe that for a minute. Her mother was strong and smart and capable and _the best there was_. That just wasn't up for debate. 

Skaia had a small attachment of soldiers and defenders, which Karkat was apparently in charge of. They'd been very helpful in driving off the more predatory wild life, and took shifts day and night to keep the village safe. Sollux was more or less in this group, but apparently he spent most of his time with the architect lifting heavy bricks and beams and helping put the houses and buildings together. 

The more Nepeta heard the more she was entranced. What was an architect? What was a blacksmith? Were there more psionics? What did a cafeteria do? 

She barraged Carcin with an onslaught of questions in her eagerness to know more, eyes wide with wonder. The troll weathered them all with seemingly endless patience, indulging all her curiosities. He told her that he didn't mind – it was a unique opportunity, after all, to teach someone everything that society was. 

“What does Equius do?” She piped, giggling when Sollux and Karkat made twin sounds of disbelief. Did they think she _really_ wouldn't hear them, or remember? 

Carcin chuckled in that quiet, soft way of his, and Nepeta leaned in to his side, perfectly alright with the companionable arm that he'd slung over her shoulders. “Equius Zahhak is the architect's son. He spends a lot of his time trying to master the bow and arrow, but is far more successful with his work in the blacksmith, making weapons and tools from metal. He is very, very strong. Could probably give you a good tussle, if you wanted to try.” 

Nepeta did want to try. She'd wanted to try since she'd first heard his name. 

“His brother, Horuss, is in charge of our steam power generators. He's a very smart troll, building them with the help of one of the humans, Dirk.” 

Now that she was hearing more names, she wanted to know _everyone_. She knew the names Felide, Meulin, and Nepeta, and now Karkat and Sollux and Carcin. Equius and Aradia and Dirk! Carcin was more than happy to oblige. 

“Well, like I said, Dirk helps Horuss with the steam power. Dirk's brother, Dave, is a soldier like Karkat. Rose is the alchemist and seer I told you about earlier, and Roxy is a vinter, someone who makes wines and other drinks.” 

Roxy. She liked how that name sounded on her tongue. It was a funky name!

“Meguri will be in charge of the inn, once it is built, and her daughter Damara will help her. Her other daughter, Aradia, is part of the exploratory expedition team, in charge of searching out future village sites for expansion.” 

Apparently someone else named Jake was also on this team, along with a Jade. 

“Vriska will be with her mother Epeira on the big passenger ship that will make trips back and forth from Skaia and Alternia, helping to make Skaia into the bustling port town the Queen envisions by bringing materials and goods and people.” Nepeta nodded. That sounded interesting. 

“Her sister Aranea will be heading the library once it is built, and in charge of protecting the books and writing new ones as we gain information.” 

From there on, apparently there was also a Kanaya and a Porrim, and someone that Carcin spoke very highly and fondly of, an Iliaa. Someone named Eridan was in charge of fishing, while his brother Cronus apparently did things with music and singing and crafting instruments. 

If there were other names Nepeta couldn't remember them. It was a lot to take in at once, and Carcin seemed to realize that he was overloading her with information. 

“They're all very excited to meet you,” he told her, his smile warm. “And your sister, too. And no doubt they're all looking forward to the supplies you're bringing!” 

Nepeta laughed, jittery with excitement herself. She wanted to meet _all of them_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM A LOT OF NAMES AND THINGS AND JOBS. 
> 
> @___@


	9. E%cuse you, Miss Nepeta!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta makes her grand entrance in the village and gets swept up into a town hall meeting, where she singles out Equius for the FIGHT OF A LIFETIME.

Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea she'd ever had to run ahead of the rest of the group. But she couldn't help herself – she was struck dumb with the sheer amount of new smells and sounds that came from the village, and she bet that Meulin would have exploded forward, too, if she hadn't been pulling the wagon at the time. 

 

As it was, Nepeta had burst on to the scene, in head dress and full body paint, and every bit of tooth and wooden jewelry she owned. She was in all her finery, in all of her ferocious glory, her hip pelt smeared and smudged in the blood of her latest kills and the rest of her gloriously bare in order to showcase all of her paint. It was done up in all sorts of colors, greens here and a rich blue there, the 'sign' of her family painted across her neck and breasts. She'd striped her feet and the backs of her calves with yellow in honor of her friendship with Sollux, and had swept her thumb over her nose and cheekbones in Karkat's brilliant bright red to announce her courtship. (Karkat hadn't been all that willing to relinquish his blood, but after she'd explained her intentions he'd fussily cut into his palm to bleed into the bowl, looking embarrassed and pleased at the same time.) 

 

Perhaps she should have expected the startled scream from the human girl in the middle of the road, or the _click_ of arrows being notched and pointed at her. 

The girl with the bright yellow hair wobbled side to side and then pressed her hand to her heart, squinting curiously at the bottle in her hand. “What'd the hell'd I put in this one,” she mumbled to herself, looking back up at Nepeta. 

“Dunno, but it smells really gross!” She exclaimed, propping her hands on her hips. “I'm Nepeta!” 

“M'name's Rozy, uhm, Roxy.” The girl grinned and offered her a hand, and Nepeta stared at it, confused, before reaching out and touching it gently with one finger, ears flickering. Was this some strange human custom? 

“PUT THOSE GODDAMN BOWS AWAY BEFORE I GUT YOU WITH MY TEETH, I SWEAR TO SHIT I WILL LOSE MY FUCKING MIND AND THIS WHOLE PLACE WILL BE A RIVER OF YOUR STUPID HUMAN BLOOD!” Karkat bellowed, coming running up from behind Nepeta, sickle already out and waving. 

“THAT MEANS YOU, JAKE. NOW!” 

The male human holding his strange weapon lowered it, looking confused and mildly offended. The girl beside him just shrugged with a wide grin, her teeth oddly sharp for not being a troll. Nepeta couldn't get a good whiff of her, the wind was in the wrong direction for that, but the look in the girl's eyes when she stared at her insinuated that they would be having some _conversations_ later. 

“I hear Karkat!” Someone sing-songed from half-way across the village, and Nepeta giggled. Felide and Carcin finally arrived with Meulin and Sollux and the wagon in tow, and Roxy nearly dropped her bottle. 

“Heeeey! My favorite cat lady is back! Felly! Hey!” 

Felide wiggled her fingers in a wave, laughing as Roxy embraced her, splashes of whatever was in that yucky smelling bottle getting on Felide's hip-pelt. 

Two more humans came wandering up the road, and another troll just behind them, looking insatiably curious. 

Another yellow-haired female, though this one's hair was so blonde it was nearly white, and swept back in some sort of hair adornment. She wore a long, sweeping dress with a hem that she held primly off of the ground as she walked, and her eyes were a bizarre shade of purple. Her companion was dark-haired and significantly taller, with strange rounds things on his face, balanced on his nose. 

The troll had the curling ram like horns that apparently belonged to Sollux's moirail, so Nepeta decided to greet her by name. “Aradia!” She trilled, pleased with herself for remembering, and the troll grinned, dark thick eyebrows arching upward in surprise. 

“Well, hello! I guess Sollux has been talking about me, unless you're psychic!” Nepeta shook her head quickly, hopping forward to take a better sniff of the girl. Aradia didn't seem to have any problems with that, though she did extend a hand to Sollux when he drew near, pulling him close to her side. 

“Good to see you back. I missed your stupid pointy face.” 

He laughed quietly, burying said face in Aradia's fluffy hair. 

“Where's Equius?” Nepeta demanded after a moment, coaxing a groan out of Karkat, who smacked his palm to his own face. 

“That didn't even take five minutes. Nepeta, seriously. You can't just fight him in the goddamn streets.” 

Meulin leaned silently against the wagon, looking extremely uncomfortable with the whole situation. Her nose wriggled constantly as she processed all the different scents, and she avoided eye contact with Roxy when the girl leaned forward to introduce herself. 

“I am Rose, and you must be Nepeta, Felide's youngest daughter. Welcome to Skaia.” The girl that had just introduced herself dipped into some strange kind of leg-bending pose that looked very awkward, and after a moment, Nepeta mimicked it. 

“I'm John! Do you really turn into a cat giant!? That's SO COOL!” 

Nepeta huffed out a surprised laugh at the same time that Rose arched a single pale eyebrow at her companion in reproach.   
“Let's have the rest of the introductions in town hall,” Carcin suggested, nodding to Rose, who inclined her chin in agreement. 

\----

Nepeta had refused to take a seat on the portion of raised up floor that she'd been told was called a 'stage', instead standing tall and proud with her hands propped on her hips and her chest thrust forward, chin in the air and fangs bared in a grin. Her tail had been thrashing excitedly back and forth for the entire time Felide and Carcin had been talking, and her cheeks were beginning to hurt from the force of her constant smiling. But she _couldn't stop_. All the villagers were staring at her like she was the most badass thing they'd ever seen in their entire lives, as they should. 

She _was_ pretty badass, after all. 

It was finally her turn to introduce herself to the village in its entirety. Meulin had been timid and quiet and practically mute, shrunk behind Felide like she wanted to hide from the prying eyes. Not Nepeta, though. Nope. 

“My name is Nepeta! I am the second daughter of Felide, last Mother of the Tall Tower in the Jungle! I am a huntress and a killer and I like to roll around in blood and paint it on the walls!” 

She heard Karkat's muffled ' _oh bulgemunching fucking hell_ ' and it only made her grin wider, fangs fully exposed. 

“I am the strongest and the fastest and the best hunter! Well, except for my mother. Meulin is a really good tracker! But I kill the biggest beasts and make head dresses from their skins.” 

She did a quick twirl to showcase her fabulous head dress, appreciating the rush of whispers she got. One person clapped. 

“And I am courting Karkat! He is going to be my mate, which is why I wear his blood on my face!” 

The room went absolutely, deathly silent, except for one person's outrageous cackling. 

Karkat went stiff beside her, but didn't say a word, instead adopting a murderous expression and directing it at the village as a whole, as if daring them to say anything. 

There was a drawn out 'pfffffff' sound and some restrained squealing laughter, but otherwise no issue. Nepeta nodded, about finished describing herself, before she remembered. 

“And, OH! I was told that there is an Equius Zahhak here who is very strong! I want to fight him!” 

_That_ had the whole town hall in an uproar, and the troll who had been cackling earlier banged her strange wooden hammer against the podium she was standing at, calling out authoritatively for silence. 

A very large, very muscular and very _sweaty_ troll pulled himself to his feet, arms crossed over his chest. One of his horns had been broken off, and he seemed to be missing some teeth. He looked like some kind of muscle swollen brawler, and Nepeta may have half-shifted in excitement.   
“Miss Nepeta, I would require that you garb yourself in clothing more fitting for a young woman before I engage in any sort of activity with you.” 

A female troll off to the side hissed angrily at that, piping up with, “Why should she have to?! If she wants to go around topless, I say let her! She's expressing herself!” 

A male troll with odd fins on the side of his face called out, “Hey, Kar, how'd you score a matesprit gettin' lost in the jungle?” 

The teal blood with the weird hammer screeched out, “SILENCE! SILENCE IN THE COURT BLOCK!” 

Eventually everyone quieted again, but Nepeta hardly noticed. She was too busy staring down the sweaty blue blood that continued to frown at her disapprovingly, eyes narrowed. Her mother was talking now, informing them about the wagon they'd brought, as well as listing off everything that was in it, while Carcin was handing the papers that Meulin had been recording on to a female troll dressed primarily in blue. 

Nepeta hissed quietly in challenge, feeling her tail beginning to bristle. The blue blood's ears perked, but his frown only intensified. 

She was going to maul him. 

Karkat turned to ask her something, but she'd already lunged, flying over the heads of the trolls and humans in the front row of chairs and colliding with Equius, who didn't move even an inch as she rammed into his chest. 

She latched her teeth onto his ear and tugged, yowling playfully, and the troll gasped, staggering backward and knocking two humans out of their seats. 

“NOT INSIDE!” Karkat bellowed at the same time as Carcin, who pled much more quietly, “Please, no fighting!” 

Equius stumbled out of the door and into the main street, and Nepeta purred, pleased with herself. One large hand wrapped around her middle and began to try to peel her off of her new perch, and she hissed, shimmying up onto his head and wrapping her arms around his neck, swinging behind him and rabbit-footing against his back with her feet. 

“Miss Nepeta! I insist that you cease with this horse play, right this instant!” 

“No!” She snapped, biting him on the shoulder. 

Villagers began to gather outside to watch the spectacle, Karkat at the forefront looking miserable, while Felide draped herself on Carcin and laughed and laughed and laughed. 

“Young lady! I demand – no, I PLEAD, that you stop this irritating and foul behavior!” 

“I said NO!” Nepeta repeated, giggling and shifting in order to cover the troll's eyes with her hands, ramming her feet into the small of his back and letting out a peal of delighted laughter when he fell over, face first. 

“Holy shit!” “Woah!” “Did she just knock _Equius_ over?” “What's HAPPENING? I can't SEE!” “I can NEVER see and you don't hear me complaining!” “Shut up, Terezi!” 

Equius rolled, and Nepeta moved with him so that she could perch on his chest, kneading his ridiculous pectorals with her hands. “Now that I've knocked you over are you gunna fight me seriously?” She asked smugly, and then yelped when she was shoved off of him, doing several backwards somersaults. 

The troll sat up and fixed her with a glare so stern she immediately hissed at him, crouching down and getting ready to spring. 

“Your behavior is inappropriate and dangerous. Did no one ever teach you how to behave properly in public? Were you raised with wolves?” 

Nepeta shook her head with a fangy grin. “Nope! With werecats!” 

That seemed to stump Equius for a moment, before he snorted in what sounded suspiciously like laughter. “Then it falls to me to educate you, Miss Nepeta.” 

Being educated sounded boring. She wanted to _fight_! She said as much, tensing when he got to his feet. But he simply patted the dirt from his breeches and gave the gathered crowd an unimpressed look. “Shoo, all of you. There is nothing more to see here.” 

He returned his attention to her, commanding, “Get off of the ground,” and then adding a, “Please.” 

She pouted at him, but rose to her feet anyway, crossing her arms over her chest and kicking at the ground. Karkat made some kind of shocked squawking noise that she'd have to ask him about later, when she wasn't busy wondering why she was letting this stupid tall bulk of a troll boss her around. 

“When you have demonstrated that you are not entirely some sort of feral ruffian, perhaps I will deign to enter in some contained practice combat with you. Until then, it is simply not safe. I could seriously injure you.” 

Felide snorted a laugh so loudly it sounded like it might have been painful, and Nepeta full on belly laughed, bent double and nearly crying. 

Sollux snickered, then said, “Well you could _try_. I've seen her fall ten stories and then casually walk away.” 

Equius didn't seem impressed by that, but he also seemed like the type to not be impressed by anything, so Nepeta decided not to be offended. She bounded forward again and climbed up the troll to hang from his neck, legs tucked up against her stomach, feet braced against his chest. 

“So I have to be a good troll and then you'll fight me, Equius?” 

His hands hovered just underneath her, as if he wanted to take hold of her to prevent her from falling, but couldn't bring himself to touch her. “I suppose that is the compromise that I made.” 

Karkat made another dying squawkbeast noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahaha. Palemance is in the air!


	10. Palemate, Flushmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, wow, chapter 10! 
> 
> Nepeta begins the slow process of meeting more people in the village, but spends most of her time annoying her big sweaty friend and terrorizing her mate-to-be.

“Okay, but I know pale when I see it, and that was some of the most blatant and unsubtle pale man-handling that I've ever seen. Equius basically just smacked Nepeta in the face with diamonds and she said 'oh thank you very much I will treasure them forever I'll soak them in blood like I do with all of my precious possessions'.” 

Nepeta wondered if Karkat was going to begin actually frothing at the mouth. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sensation – she'd eaten the wrong kind of root once when she was younger and it had been horrible. 

“I still don't think it counts as a pale overture if the entire thing was centered on them potentially fighting one another,” Kanaya countered, raising her cup to her lips and taking a dainty sip. Nepeta watched her with wonder. The troll woman was tall and slender and delicately boned, with a handsome nose and artfully swept hair. Every movement she made was graceful and refined, something that was definitely alien to Nepeta. 

Kanaya kind of looked like you could snap her in half with little effort or thought, but Nepeta had seen her wielding some strange kind of contraption earlier that felled a massive tree in just a few strokes. 

Karkat was much calmer in the jade blood's presence, like he didn't want to offend her. It was an odd change to see, and Nepeta wasn't sure if she liked it. Karkat shouldn't change for anyone, she liked him just the way he was!

“They hashed out an agreement right there in the middle of the street, like some kind of pale peep show. I don't know what the fuck was wrong with Equius, he knows better. Maybe he's some kind of quadrant exhibitionist.” 

Nepeta wasn't sure what that meant. “Exhibby...huh?” 

Kanaya smiled at her with her painted lips. “Karkat is suggesting that our friend Equius was quadrant flirting with you, and very boldly, for that matter.” 

Hrmm. She didn't know if she had the time for that. Nepeta still wasn't quite out of her heat yet. The courtship behaviors coming from Karkat were keeping the instinctive swell at bay, calming the forming bond's need to force them closer, and so far she'd been able to keep herself under control. 

How did you even know if you felt 'pale' for somebody? Felide hadn't really talked about the quadrants much, since she'd fully expected her daughters to live their whole lives ensconced in the tower. Nepeta felt a lot of different things, most of them confusing and sometimes alarming, but she couldn't really sort one thought from another. 

“What does pale feel like?” 

Kanaya flushed slightly, jade tinting her pale cheeks, and Karkat got a dangerous gleam in his eye. 

“It depends on the trolls involved, but the underlying idea is that a moirail pacifies and calms a dangerous partner, and keeps them from hurting themselves or someone else. Moirails are your secret keepers and they know your heart and your mind, can soothe your soul. A moirail's sweet touch can break the fog of even the most blood thirsty rage.” 

Kanaya looked like she wanted to laugh, but didn't dare, not while Karkat looked so serious. “Borrowing from your father's sermons, Karkat?” 

He didn't dignify that with a response. 

“So Equius wants me to not be dangerous?” Nepeta asked, face twisting up in confusion. She _liked_ being dangerous. It was the best thing about her! “Or am I supposed to not want him to be dangerous.” 

Karkat seemed to think that one over, looking genuinely stumped. “Well you're both stupidly strong and seem to have some anger issues. Really, you're...both in need of some serious pacifying.” 

“But one of them is a werecat and the other is not.” Kanaya pointed out. 

He grunted, nodding in agreement. That did complicate things. 

Nepeta flopped onto her back on the ground, staring up at the ceiling of Kanaya's hut. She apparently shared it with her sister Porrim, but the older troll was absent. 

Well, while they chittered on about pacifying and soothing and papping and shooshing, she was going to think about her own feelings. Those made more sense, generally. She'd wanted to play with Equius as soon as she'd met him! The urge to fight and maim and scratch had died down pretty quickly once she'd made contact, and instead had been replaced with a kind of playful mischief. 

Equius made her feel kittenish and silly, especially when he glared at her so disapprovingly. She'd worn her breast band today in an attempt to prove that she wasn't _all_ wild, and he'd patted her ( _very_ gently) on the head. Their size differences were pretty ridiculous, too, which always made her laugh. He towered over her by an absolutely stupid amount, and was huge and bulky. Her hands looked like tiny baby hands compared to his, and she could literally climb him like he was a tree. She wanted to clamber on to his shoulders and walk around the village that way, talking about whatever came to mind. 

She purred at the thought, drawing Karkat's curious attention. She smiled at her mate-to-be and reached out to poke him with a toe, giggling when he allowed it with a huff and roll of his eyes. Kanaya offered her another cup of tea, which Nepeta had decided she liked with lots and lots of sugar and honey. 

\----

“Equius!” She called out, charging down the street towards him. He paused in his conversation with _yet another blonde human_ in order to turn towards her, bracing himself. Nepeta gathered herself and leaped, slamming into Equius's chest with a wild laugh, rubbing her head beneath his chin. 

He brought up one arm to hold her there and returned his attention to his companion, who was arching a blonde eyebrow over the strange triangular top of his dark 'glasses'. “Kanaya gave me lots of sugar and honey in my tea! I feel like I could run seventy thousand laps! Or fly! Or jump off of a water fall!” 

She babbled for a bit more before Equius sternly shushed her, rumbling, “Mister Strider and I were having a conversation before you so rudely interrupted, miss Nepeta.” 

Dirk waved one hand lazily, dismissing the perceived sleight. “Nah, she's hilarious. And in fact, I may have a way for her to burn off all that extra energy.” 

Nepeta scrambled on to Equius's obscenely wide shoulders and perched comfortably, taking hold of the non-broken horn and pretending to steer. He sputtered, gasping out a, “Nepeta! Really!” while Dirk's lips twitched in amusement. 

Dirk led them to the steam generator workshop that had been set up in a ramshackle wooden hut with some kind of tarp stretched over the top to keep rainfall at bay, or perhaps funnel it somewhere. Nepeta wasn't sure. There was an odd contraption that took up the center of the 'workshop', some weird kind of wide black belt of strange rubbery material pulled over something vaguely rectangular in shape. 

“Horuss and I are experimenting with different ways to generate the heat needed to produce the steam,” Dirk explained, and he motioned for Equius to deposit Nepeta on the machine. “This one requires someone to run in place non-stop on the moving belt, which is connected to the metal drum we're housing the water in. The energy generated by the running will heat the water, and the rising steam will funnel into our generators.” 

Well that made approximately zero sense to Nepeta. She stood on the belt and eyed it curiously. It was still, and definitely not moving, like Dirk had said it would be. 

“I have to turn this crank a few times to get it moving, but once you begin running it will keep going under your own effort.” It was almost like he could just pluck the questions right out of her head. 

“Whenever you're ready, Nepeta,” Dirk called out, crouching next to the crank on the left side of the machine. She chirped, and he heaved, turning the strange thing. The belt beneath her feet shifted, and she mewed in surprise, wavering. 

“Start walking, at first, and then slowly speed up.” 

She could do that. Nepeta took a few careful steps and was soon walking comfortably, careful to hold her tail away from the belt as it disappeared underneath its base. She kept her core tightened to help with her balance – once or twice she'd nearly mis-stepped and gone tumbling off, and Equius had fidgeted and twitched, like he was fighting the urge to snatch her off of the belt. 

After a few minutes of fast walking she had picked up to a jog, and then a run, and finally a sprint, eventually dropping to all fours and loping, tilting her head back with an exuberant laugh. She was running and running and running and going nowhere! It was the strangest feeling, and she was careful to keep her claws away from the rubbery material, not wanting to rip it on accident. 

“Amazing,” Dirk said quietly, mostly to himself, watching the curling steam already rising from the surface of the water drum. That was the fastest he'd ever seen the water heated, and Nepeta showed no signs of tiring, racing along like it was her god damn _job_ , nipping playfully at Equius whenever he drew closer to investigate the contraption. 

“It is good to see you contributing positively to the community,” Equius praised Nepeta, who just laughed at him some more. Like all the meat and pelts weren't enough already!

Dirk had her run for the better part of an hour, until her panting and dry mouth signaled her oncoming sugar crash. “That's a pretty significant amount of steam we've generated. Horuss will be pleased to know that the belt works as intended.” 

Equius nodded and lifted a panting and exhausted Nepeta from the machine, frowning at her boneless slump in his arms. She waved tiredly at Dirk as she was carried out of the workshop, already blinking sleepily. She wanted a good long nap in the sunshine and maybe some jerky, and to chew on Karkat a little. 

What she got was being carried through the village to a part she hadn't seen before. She watched the passing sprawl of buildings and huts in varying states of unfinished, grinning at Meulin, who had been roped into helping tend the community garden by Jane and Jade. Roxy appeared to be lounging on some sort of long chair off to the side, calling out encouragements. 

She was confused as Equius approached the watering trough for Tavros and Rufioh's livestock, stirring in his arms and beginning to ask a question. 

Nepeta _howled_ as she was dropped into the water, and immediately began splashing about, trying to spring out. Equius just pressed with gentle hands on her shoulders and dunked her, heedless of the scratches she was raining on his hands and forearms as she hissed and spat, furious. 

“WHYYYYYY?!” She yowled, finally leaping out of the trough and shaking herself violently. “I was warm and sleepy! You traitor!” 

“You were sweaty,” he answered simply. “One should not go to sleep or in the company of others dirty.” 

Nepeta pinned him with a look of such disbelief it hurt to make her eyes that wide. “You're sweaty _ALL THE TIME_!” 

“Yes, well, that can't be helped,” he said primly, “I have a condition. You do not.” 

Feeling mutinous, she stamped on Equius's foot, pleased when he grunted in pain. Then, for the cherry on top, she grabbed him around the waist and hauled him into the trough, falling to the ground in laughter when the poor thing splintered and broke apart under the force of his weight. Water splashed out the sides and on to the earth, and a fairly soaked and displeased Equius looked ready to punch her lights out. 

She stuck her tongue out at him and took off at a dash, tearing down the streets with her laughter trailing after her when Equius gave chase, footsteps thudding. 

\---

Since she'd declared himself as his mate-in-progress, (the villagers were referring to her as Karkat's 'flushed possibility') she'd taken up refuge in his hut, which was close to the 'barracks' that were being built to house the soldiers and their weapons, and various training knick knacks. 

He slept on a strange platform with a large flat cushion on the top, covered in long swathes of material and a pillow or two. It was absurdly comfortable, and she'd taken to curling up in it with him despite his initial embarrassed protests. Apparently trolls used to sleep in things called 'recuperacoons', but the villagers hadn't wanted to transport the ridiculous amounts of slime it would require to keep them full, and were adjusting to the human method of sleeping furniture. 

Nepeta liked the bed. Point of favor to the humans on this one. 

Karkat was propped up against his headboard, reading some book about weapon exercises that didn't make any sense to Nepeta at all. She'd draped herself over him, head cradled on his shoulder, nose brushing against his neck. The rise and fall of his chest had been lulling her slowly to sleep, as well as the quiet chorus of night-time bugs and wild life. 

She'd kept up a steady litany of purring, and occasionally Karkat would drop one hand from his book to drag his claws lightly through her hair, scratching gently against her scalp. It was _wonderful_. 

Nepeta shifted on to her side, tossing a leg over Karkat's knees and an arm over his chest. She pressed close, her purring intensifying. When she caught the subtle change in his scent she cracked one eye open, curious. 

He was staring at his book but didn't seem to actually be reading it, since he hadn't turned the page in a good three minutes. His grip on it was white-knuckled, and his jaw seemed to be locked tight. Shuffling her nose closer to his skin, (she'd hiked up his shirt slowly over the past hour or so, she was so sneaky) Nepeta took a good deep whiff, nearly choking on the sudden wave of thick _lust_.

The change in herself was immediate. Like a switch flipping itself in her brain, she felt her mind begin to fog with the one purpose of heat, and she rubbed up against her mate, crooning in her throat. 

Karkat dropped his book off the side of the bed and gathered her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then the side of her lips, hesitantly, slowly. Nepeta's tongue flicked out to lick playfully at his lips, and he sighed, leaning forward and capturing her in a kiss. 

She'd never been kissed before, not like this, and she wasn't entirely sure what to do. She wiggled onto his lap to get more comfortable, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling lightly at the strands. He made a quiet humming noise and pulled her closer, lips sliding slowly and warmly against her own. 

She fell into the motions, mimicking and experimenting with some success. She pulled away to lap that corners of his mouth and nibble along his jawline, inordinately pleased when he tilted his head back, baring his neck to her. 

Nepeta latched on to the skin of his throat, laving with her tongue and drawing a line of messy, sloppy wet kisses. He sighed and groaned, hands falling to her hips and squeezing. 

She felt like she was fire, flames licking up her fingers and toes and threatening to consume her. Every kiss and bite and lick she bestowed on Karkat's skin just fanned the fire, heat and warmth and desire flooding her limbs and her mind. When Karkat shifted beneath her, the hard press of his unsheathing bulge pressing into the underside of her thigh through his sleeping trousers, Nepeta ground down, relishing the cry it drew from him. 

She hauled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor with his forgotten book, dipping her head to latch her teeth on to a collarbone. 

“You never wear any goddamn clothes,” Karkat mumbled, “How am I supposed to take anything off of you?” 

Nepeta pulled back just long enough to shimmy out of her skirt-like hip pelt, baring her underwear. Her bulge coiled obscenely, peeking out from the waist band and sliding against her stomach in a smear of olive green. Karkat stared at it, gulping heavily. 

Nepeta licked her lips and began pawing at his pants until he swatted her away to pull them down himself, not wanting to explain to Kanaya why the comfortable lounging pants she'd made him had been clawed to pieces. She zeroed in on the sticky wetness that his bulge had been working on in his underwear, pressing her tongue to the fabric and purring.

Karkat tipped his head back and cursed a blue streak, pressing his hands to his face. Nepeta shimmied the remaining cloth off of her mate's hips and took a moment to admire the bright red of the twisting mating bulge she'd uncovered, giggling when it smacked impatiently against her cheek with a wet slap. 

She chased it with her tongue, careful of her fangs, one hand curling around the slippery base in order to direct it better. Karkat shuddered and sighed, whispering her name when she dragged her tongue from base to tip, sucking on the thin nerve ending. Nepeta was happy to play, acting out all the thoughts she'd ever had about her own bulge, things she'd tried with varying success. Flexibility could only do so much for you. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Karkat murmured when she found his nook, shouldering his thighs to the side and nudging her nose to the shivering opening, coming away with red dripping from the tip. She took a breath and pressed forward, slipping her tongue in and lapping, twisting, tasting. Her mate was delicious, so so _so good_. She gripped his hips and lifted him from the bed and towards her face, purring as she suckled and laved, his bulge sliding crudely along her forehead, trying to coil around her ear. 

“Oh FUCK!” He half-screamed, shoving a fist in his mouth and biting down, knees locking on either side of Nepeta's head. She was going to devour him, eat him alive, and he wasn't going to complain or try to stop her. No, he'd go bravely forth into death and embrace that shit so hard it would _cry_ , like he was half tempted to do right now. 

She drew away to take a deep breath, face coated and slathered in his bright red, which was unexpectedly fucking hot and oh shit he couldn't _breathe_ what was she _doing_ to him. 

Mindful of her claws, she slipped a single finger into her mate's nook, smirking at the immediate clench. She turned her face and trailed messy kisses along the side of Karkat's shuddering thigh, adding a second digit when he'd relaxed enough that it wouldn't be painful. This, Nepeta was familiar with, having done it an innumerable amount of times to herself. 

She drew them in and out, rubbing circles along his inner walls and curling her fingers against him, rendering her mate into a shaking mess of a troll. When the third finger joined its fellows he fairly whined, arching off the bed and groaning a long string of curses and suggestions that Nepeta _get the fuck on with it right now before he DIED oh hell she was going to KILL him with her MURDERFINGERS_. 

Withdrawing, she ripped her underclothes off, uncaring that they were ruined. She seized Karkat by the thighs and dragged him toward where she knelt on the bed, running her hands beneath his ass and lifting him, lining up her bulge, which was difficult work with how wildly it was thrashing and squirming. 

She hissed when contact was finally made, the tip of her bulge finding the seizing entrance of Karkat's nook and burrowing forward, and she sunk in, pulling Karkat in by his hips. Her head rolled back and she whined in conjunction with her mate, who was wriggling like he was about to fall apart. His scent rolled over her like a cloud of fog and she breathed in deep, mouth falling open to pant heavily, her chest heaving. 

“MOVE, Nepeta!” he demanded, and she bared her fangs at him. She loomed over him, pushing and pressing until they were flush, and buried her face in his neck, gathering his skin into her mouth and biting down just as she finally jerked her hips, utterly claiming Karkat as hers. 

The rest of it was a rush of smell and color and the obscene slapping of flesh on flesh, Nepeta flipping Karkat over and ramming into him as she pressed into his back, fangs firmly embedded in the muscle of his shoulder as she rode him furiously, hands clamping his hips or smoothing over his abdomen, one wrist captured by the tight curl of his weeping bulge. 

Karkat _wailed_ beneath her, pressing back and shuddering, her name falling from his lips in a rush of gibberish punctuated with 'yes' and ' _yes_ ' and ' _YES_ '. 

He had already come, the convulsing of his nook and the resulting rush of brilliant genetic material coating her thighs and soaking into the sheets cluing her in. When Nepeta was nearing her end she pulled reluctantly away, though she kept her mate still, finishing with a breathy roar and a flood of olive that ran down her legs and pooled with the rest. 

 

She stayed kneeling where she was, panting raggedly and utterly spent, the haze of heat finally lifting from her brain and leaving her in a sleepy contented state of peace. Karkat wheezed slightly, flopping over onto his back and reaching out to grab her wrist and pull her onto him. She sprawled bonelessly, more than happy to lay in the sticky mess of their rutting, rubbing some of Karkat's hipbones to scent him. 

\----

When they woke the next morning Karkat immediately flipped out of the bed and began ripping the filthy sheets off of it, squawking something about it being unsanitary. Nepeta continued to laze naked, too sated and happy to bother getting up, even when he poked her in the butt cheek and demanded she help him wash the sheets she'd ruined with her mating shenanigans. 

After tying on her breast band and pulling up a spare pair of Karkat's looser cloth pants she padded outside after her mate, yawning widely and stretching.  
He watched her with a fond kind of exasperation, seeming pleased that she'd decided to pilfer his clothing. She liked the way that the pants smelled like him, and contemplated keeping them. Until they needed to smell like him again, she supposed. 

Nepeta actually wasn't much help with the washing, as Karkat could perhaps have predicted, as she seemed more intent on cuddling him and pressing kisses to the bright angry bite mark she'd left on his neck. Passerby giggled and laughed and catcalled, and Nepeta smirked smugly at them all, every inch the cat that got the cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there we are. Finally some lovin'. :P Don't worry, the door curtain was closed the whole time! No poor innocent eyes were scandalized. 
> 
> Chapter 10! Ahhhh!


	11. Smells fishy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta does some odd jobs around the village and gets into a situation where she learns something that she'd rather she hadn't.

Nepeta liked Jane because she was borderline terrifying. Absolutely no nonsense went down in Jane's kitchen, and she ran it much like Karkat ran his barracks, with a steel fist. (Thanks to Equius, Nepeta had finally learned what metals were.) 

She seemed sweet when you first noticed her, soft and plump and cheerful. She was unflappable, and utterly reasonable, and didn't seem to possess any kind of temper, but for some reason, you just _really_ didn't want to make her angry at you. To face down her disappointment would be like blinding yourself in the full force of the sun. 

Nepeta hadn't any reason to fear the human girl until the day that she'd dropped by the kitchens unannounced, planning on filching something for lunch, and stepped right into the middle of a war zone. 

Jane had a wooden chair in one hand and was backing the tall, gangly troll that Nepeta thought was named Gamzee into a corner with it, brandishing it like a weapon instead of the furniture it was supposed to be. Her face was a boiling angry red, and strands of hair were escaping from her little barrette and adding to her frazzled look. 

“I TOLD YOU NO SOPOR, BUSTER! I DON'T WANT THAT HORRIBLE SLIME IN MY KITCHENS!” 

Gamzee honked in fear, cowering into the corner and trying to make himself as small as possible, which...really wasn't working for him. Not with that height, or those ridiculous horns. 

“It was just for me, cakesis! I all up and promise!” 

“I DON'T CARE WHO IT WAS FOR, I SAID _**NO**_!” 

Jane launched the chair and hollered in frustration when it hit the wall and clattered apart, Gamzee diving out of the side door while she was distracted and unarmed. 

Nepeta continued to stand there with her mouth open, wondering what Jane had against sopor and if perhaps that was supposed to be black romance. She didn't _think_ so...none of that had been romantic or sexually charged at all. Man, troll romance sure was strange. 

“You can cook with sopor slime?” She piped up after Jane had had a moment to catch her breath and recompose herself. 

“Oh! Nepeta. Sorry you had to see all that. I don't usually lose my temper so badly, hoo!” Jane wiped her hands on the frilly apron she had tied around her waist, retrieving her ever-present large stirring spoon from its pocket. “That hooligan thinks he's sneaky and has been trying to hide his contraband in my kitchen! Gamzee in particular likes to bake the foul stuff into pies, which _will_ rot your brain! Don't ever accept a pie from Gamzee, Nepeta, _ever_!” 

Jane waggled her spoon at her and Nepeta nodded, promising that she wouldn't. She liked her brain how it was, non-rotted. 

“Now, did you need something? Or perhaps you could help me with kneading this week's bread?” 

\-----

Jane was a merciless taskmaster and Nepeta only escaped the kitchen and its massive ovens after she'd kneaded and padded and thumped her hands sore on all sorts of bread dough. Epeira's latest shipment had involved a lot of different grains that Jane was experimenting with, apparently trying to see which ones would grow best in the village's soil and which lasted the longest in dry storage. 

Nepeta knew that was important for long-term village planning but still couldn't bring herself to care about it. 

She booked it to the opposite side of the village, taking shelter behind the recently completed Inn. The villagers that didn't have huts of their own or couldn't be bothered to care where they slept stayed there, looked after and fussed over by Meguri, the Inn's proprietor, and often the victims of Damara's uncomfortable behavior. 

Just as she'd settled in to her hiding spot she realized that she wasn't quite alone. The elder indigo brother, Kurloz, was reclining on one of the rough wooden benches that had been littered through the village, Meulin pulled into his lap, where she looked quite content. 

Neither had noticed her, though Meulin really should have. Nepeta took in her sister's strangely slack face and glassy eyes, unable to pinpoint what about them exactly seemed off. Hmm. It was even stranger that Meulin hadn't been gushing to her about her prospect, as she and Kurloz seemed rather close. In fact, Nepeta didn't think she'd even heard the troll's name pass her sister's lips. 

Either way, they deserved their privacy, she guessed. Meulin had been very quiet and shy since they'd first arrived about a week ago, and it was good to see her looking relaxed with someone, even if something about was still...strange. Her nose didn't detect anything off, though, so Nepeta removed herself from the scene. 

Having had quite enough of Gamzee and Kurloz for one day, she ambled her way to the 'studio' that Kanaya spent much of her time in, kept quite busy as Skaia's most skilled seamstress. She shared the space with Porrim, whose major project recently was experimenting with berries and nuts to see what natural dyes she could produce. Nepeta had offered to share with her what she knew about using blood, but Porrim hadn't been...very intrigued. Too bad. Her loss. 

She liked the way that the sisters' workspace smelled, clean and vaguely flowery from Porrim's perfume. Karkat was often there as well, chattering away at Kanaya and being put to work ripping botched stitches or hauling around the heavy baskets of nuts Porrim kept scattered about. 

He wasn't there when she arrived, but she'd known as much. According to her nose Karkat was at the training field with Latula and John. 

Kanaya glanced up from her lapful of cloth when Nepeta came traipsing in, smiling pleasantly. “I'm afraid that your matesprit isn't here right now, dear. Unless you were hoping to perhaps replace some of those rags you keep wearing...?” 

The odd note of hope in Kanaya's voice was kind of offensive. Nepeta _liked_ her rags. 

“Or not wearing,” Porrim drawled with a smirk. “You know, she could always just keep doing that, and then you wouldn't have anything to fuss over.” 

Nepeta picked at the frayed hem of her breast band. “I'd wear something you made me, Kanaya, if it was red like Karkat.” 

Both sisters giggled at that, Kanaya covering her mouth with her fingers. Porrim at least seemed excited about the prospect. “Of course, they can keep shipping in colored fabric from the mainland, but I've just figured out how to make a pinkish color. I bet I'm not too far off from a bright red, if you're willing to keep gathering ingredients for me to play with.” 

Nepeta assured her that she was. She sometimes felt cooped up in the confines of the village, so it was good to escape occasionally back out into the wildness of the jungle, even if it was just to pick flowers or fill a basket with nuts. She hadn't been asked to go on a hunting trip yet, as the villagers were subsisting quite happily on the stores of jerky and meat that the weres had brought with them. 

Bidding the pair farewell Nepeta wandered back outside, debating the merits of bothering Equius while he was busy in the smithy, sweating away at his forge. Sollux and Mituna had been roped into more psionic construction, rapidly piecing together the framework of the building that was going to be Illiaa's clinic. She waved at them as she passed, giggling when Mituna's sparks ruffled her hair. 

She paused in her meandering when Rose's tent came into view, a slash of purple against the generally green landscape. The young woman slept in the Inn during the night, but spent most of her time during the day doing who knew what in her tent, where she swayed over a cauldron and read from strange books, odd chants sometimes sounding quietly from her lips. 

Her official capacity at the village was as a seer and diplomat for making contact with any other settler groups. Beyond that, nobody was really sure what Rose _actually_ did, the only thing they knew for sure being that it made them nervous. 

The seer in question was lounging on a pile of brightly colored cushions, a book laying open on the ground in front of her. The tent behind her housed bookshelves stacked and straining under the weight of far too many tomes and books and novels, framing the large silver cauldron that she did all her potion making and fortune telling in. Pillows and cushions littered the ground, nestled in the grass. 

When Nepeta eventually dragged her attention back to Rose the other woman was already looking at her with those bizarre purple eyes. She reached forward and patted a nearby cushion with one slim pale hand, and Nepeta dropped onto it with little thought, deciding that perhaps she'd found the afternoon's amusement. 

“What are you reading about?” She asked, leaning forward to peek at the book. Rose snapped it shut with a smirk, sliding it beneath the pillow she was laying on. “Something for my eyes only. I do apologize.” 

Well. Okay. 

Nepeta hadn't really...interacted with Rose much since being in the village. She'd had no excuse for it, as Rose was always around, unlike Vriska or Aradia, who never seemed to be in the same place for long. Something about the blonde just put her teeth on edge and unsettled her stomach, and she just couldn't say what. 

Maybe it was the whispered accusations that Rose was some kind of witch, and that she'd gained her powers of futuresight by communing with dark and evil spirits and gods that no mortal had any business meddling with. Sometimes when Rose spoke her voice had a garbled nearly incomprehsible undertone that made Nepeta want to screech, but if anyone else noticed they didn't have anything to say about it. 

Maybe they couldn't hear it. 

Rose was watching her silently, and Nepeta hunched over, hating the feeling that the woman was picking and prying her apart with just her eyes. “Did you come to have your fortune told?” She asked after a moment of quiet had passed, her black-painted lips curved into a smirk. 

Nepeta shook her head. She didn't want to mess with any of that – Felide had raised her daughters to be suspicious of such witchery and spellery. Once, when Nepeta had been very young, a raving madman had found the tower and nearly murdered her, claiming that he needed her organs or something for some sort of ritual. Only Felide's swift and bloody intervention had kept Nepeta from being some kind of ornamental ribcage somewhere. 

“Just wandering the village,” Nepeta admitted, scratching at an itchy spot on her scalp. “I don't have anything to do and I don't want Jane to put me to work again.” 

Rose nodded, clicking her tongue sympathetically. “Eridan is having some trouble down at the docks, if you would like to assist him.” 

Nepeta wasn't going to ask how she knew that. 

“Kay!” She sprung to her feet and beat a hasty retreat, wanting to get away from Rose and her scary eyes as fast as she could. 

\---- 

The docks were a part of Skaia that Nepeta could admit to not exploring much. The vast ocean terrified her on a primal basic instinct kind of level, and she didn't trust the wooden planks that made up the runways and shipdocks to keep her from a certain watery death. Epeira and Vriska were the self-proclaimed masters of the docks, though Eridan supposedly had a good claim to that title as well, as he was there day in and day out, hauling whatever catches he'd made. 

Eridan was an...interesting character. He lived in the shell of the light house that was in the works and wasn't very social. His brother Cronus was always out and about, toting around his strange wooden instrument and plucking at the strings, singing in his warbling voice. He was pleasant to listen to until he actually started talking, and that was always right about when Nepeta found somewhere else to be. 

The salty breeze ripped and tore at her hair, and she hissed at it, swatting futilely. Today was excessively windy, which wasn't too noticeable when inside the protective ring of the village's buildings. Eridan had mentioned that he wasn't going to go out on the boat today because all the wind was bad for being able to steer, and the danger of capsizing. 

But apparently that hadn't meant he wasn't going to fish. 

She could see him bobbing in the water far from the main dock's end, the distinctive purple stripe in his hair identifying him as much as the strange fins. His neatly folded pile of clothing was tucked into one of the many barrels that lined the dock, as was his habit when he went into the water himself. 

Nepeta settled herself on the dock's edge, trailing her bare feet over the edge. The water didn't rise high enough to lap at her toes, thankfully – the ocean was dark and cold. Eridan lifted an arm from the water to wave at her, and she waved back, wondering what Rose had meant when she'd said that he was having trouble. Looked perfectly fine to Nepeta. 

The waving became more frantic, and she tensed, scrabbling to her feet. 

“NEP! NEPETAAAA! I'M STUCK IN THE FUCKIN' NET!” 

“JUST SLASH IT UP WITH YOUR CLAWS, IDIOT!” She hollered back, cupping her hands around her mouth. 

“I DON'T HAVE CL- JUST GET OUT HERE AN' HELP ME!” 

Was it even possible for a sea troll to drown? They had gills, didn't they? And those silly fins. With a gusty sigh and a nervous look cast at the water, Nepeta shrugged out of her hip pelt and slung it over the barrel that held Eridan's clothes, not caring if her underclothes got wet. 

Bracing herself, she backed up and took a running start, throwing herself off the edge of the dock and into the ocean, the chill of the water slapping her and nearly ripping the breath from her lungs. The salt burned in her nose and in her mouth, and she coughed, spitting. Eridan was still shrieking at her, but she took her time getting to him, entirely unhappy with the choppy waves that kept crashing over her head. 

“I'm so glad it's you, Nep. I dunno if anybody else would understand! I've got a problem, see, and that's why I can't just get myself out -” 

He yelped when she took hold of the thick coils of rope that made up one of his many fishing nets, slashing at it with extended claws. “Be CAREFUL! Nep! Pay attention!” 

It was hard to look at anything for too long when the ocean was constantly trying to push you every which way, and she hissed at him. “Do you want my help or not?”   
“Just look at what you're slashin' before you cut it, okay! You'll...you'll see soon enough.” 

Figuring that maybe Eridan had managed to get himself all sorts of knotted and tangled up in the net, Nepeta felt along under the water carefully, running her hands down the smooth plane of his chest and stomach, working her way down his waist and along his hips. When skin changed abruptly to something _else_ she gasped, half-shifting in surprise. 

“You're part fish!” 

“My fins are caught in the netting and I can't get them out because,” he lifted his hands from the water and now that she was so much closer she could see that he was absolutely lacking in the claws department – perhaps because instead each of his fingers had grown translucent purple webbing between them. He wiggled them at her, and she just stared, confused. 

“I don't have anythin' to cut with and I've already tried my teeth, but I can't bend the way I need to. That's...I. I'm just glad it's you, Nep. I figured you'd understand better, not bein' all troll yourself.” 

She just stared some more, transfixed by the faintly glowing freckles that were littered over Eridan's face and shoulders. Those weren't usually there! He papped her on the face with his weird webbed hand and she grunted, dragging her attention back to the problem. 

Nepeta took a deep breath and dove under, pulling herself down to the main knot in the netting by taking big handfuls and hauling herself closer. Eridan's tailfin was ensnarled, and she worked carefully around the base of it, shredding and slicing at the coils of rope. 

The entire process took two trips back to the surface for air and entirely too much salt in her eyes for Nepeta's liking, but once the tail was freed Eridan spun in a tight circle, flexing and shaking out the sore muscles. 

Now that he was no longer the centerpiece in some kind of ropey clusterfuck, she could see that the skin below his hips flowed into smooth, shimmery scales in varying shades of violet. The fin itself was wide and sweeping, the membranes the same strange nearly-clear as the webbing on his hands and earfins. Some kind of dorsal fin rose from his back, which she'd neglected to notice earlier. When he grinned at her, his teeth were rows and rows of glinting knives. 

He towed her back to the dock since she'd grown tired fighting against the battering current, and proceeded to talk her ears off once she'd clambered back up onto the relative safety of the wooden pier. 

“I wasn't born this way. When I was about 5 sweeps I fell off my da's ship and into the ocean. Wasn't no big deal, since I have gills and can swim. What WAS a big deal was that I got attacked by mertrolls, these vicious sea dwellin' primitive assholes. Since I had high blood, they kidnapped me and managed to perform their ritual for turnin' me before Da showed up with his crew to get me the hell outta there.” 

“I think they were plannin' on sacrificin' me to their ocean god or whatever, which is why they bothered to change me in the first place. But, uh, yeah. I've been keepin' this under wraps because...” He trailed off, shrugging. “I didn't think people'd be too acceptin' of a freak like me. But, they love you, so. Who knows.” 

“A _freak_?” Nepeta hissed, rising slowly to her feet. Rage coiled tightly in her stomach.   
“We're not normal, Nep. We're different. Not trolls. Not all troll, like we should be.” 

“I was _born like this_!” Her voice was taut and strained, like she'd snap at any moment. Eridan didn't seem to notice, continuing to blather on.

“Yeah, well, you were born different, then. You'll never be fully accepted, and everywhere you go people'll be afraid of you. Or suspicious of you. Or wonder if you're gunna bite 'em and turn 'em into were-whatevers like you.” 

He sighed deeply, leaning closer to her, his breath ghosting across her face. Those rows and rows of teeth shone when he smiled at her, and she wanted to knock every single one of them out. “But us! We understand each other. We could be freaks together, Nep.”

“I don't want to be _anything_ with you,” she snarled, baring her own fangs. Eridan reached for her, his fingertips trailing along her cheek before she jerked away. Now that he had pulled himself out of the water he had his legs back, and he stood much taller, towering over her. 

“Let me thank you for savin' me,” he breathed, and when he bent down to get even closer to her she yowled and slashed at him, her claws ripping across his shoulder and catching on one gill slit. Eridan staggered backward and off of the pier, crashing back into the ocean with a pained scream. 

Nepeta ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Adding our second mythical critter to the fic list! Mertrolls, awwww yeahhhhhh.


	12. Rose colored glasses are not pink at all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Kanaya have a friendly chat about what could have possibly frightened Nepeta out of the village for the time being.

“You've spooked our friend.” 

Rose flicked her eyes up from the page of her manuscript, wondering if there were ever a moment that Kanaya didn't have a teacup pressed daintily to her lips. She lifted one brow, a silent query, though she knew full well who the troll was talking about. 

“Nepeta's taken to spending all her time in the nearby jungle again. It's been four days. Even Karkat can barely get a hold of her. I have reason to believe this has something to do with you.” 

“You think so highly of me,” Rose purred, licking her finger and turning the page. Kanaya's eyes seemed to zero in on the small motion, and the blonde chortled to herself. So very transparent, for how subtle the jade blood thought she was. 

“She wouldn't have gone off to the docks unless someone had said something to her.” Kanaya frowned, the space between her eyebrows creasing. “And Terezi said that from her scent trail, the last person Nepeta had spoken to before Eridan had been you.” 

Rose 'hmm'd. “It seems less complicated to think that Eridan simply upset her. He's particularly talented in that arena.” 

The look on her friend's face suggested that yes, that option had been explored. 

“I just worry that she'll want to leave the village,” Kanaya finally sighed, slumping on the cushion she'd perched on. “Karkat has been so much happier with her around, and I fear that if she leaves he'll become inconsolable.” 

“Nothing that his moirail couldn't handle,” Rose murmured just to see Kanaya blush. 

“Yes, well, he doesn't presently have one.” 

The seamstress was lovely when she was flustered. 

“Also I think it would bother Equius. He's grown quite fond of her.” 

Rose nodded silently, turning to another page. She'd read this text so many times that she'd borderline memorized it, but she found that the full force of her attention was often too stifling or intimidating for most. Kanaya never wavered under her regard, but Rose had her reasons for not making eye contact for too long. 

Namely that it was difficult not to smile. 

“I'd think the resources she brings to the village would be more important than the potential relationships she is forming.” 

Kanaya shrugged one shoulder. “Meulin seems to have decided to take up permanent residence. I heard Felide fussing about it this morning to Carcin. Apparently she's fallen into a flushed engagement with Kurloz.” 

Rose fought the urge to frown. Kurloz set off all her alarms in all the wrong ways, and even she sometimes felt uneasy in his presence. If the residents of the village thought that _her_ brand of sorcery was malignant, perhaps it was for the best that Kurloz didn't advertise his talents. 

She just didn't trust that Mirthful Messiah cult he and his brother were in. 

“Something scared her, but I can assure you that it wasn't me. I simply made her nervous. Someone else did the rest.” 

Kanaya gave her a look that very plainly said that she wasn't picking up the shit that Rose was laying down. She had to smother another smile. 

“I sent her to the docks because I was told that one of the villagers was in need of assistance. What she found there, I do not necessarily know.” 

Which was true. Rose was gifted with a wealth of information, but to her ire it was often only half-complete. Her visions never came to her in their entirety. Seer problems. If Kankri wasn't so tiring to be around she'd perhaps entertain the idea of speaking with him about his own visions. 

Kanaya sighed thoughtfully at that, setting down her empty teacup. “I will go and talk to Eridan again. Hopefully he's calmed down some now and won't just be ranting at me about how he can't fill any of his quadrants.” 

Rose arched an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side, and Kanaya promptly slapped a palm to her face. “ _Of course_. If anything would have scared that girl off, it would be desperation incarnate. Excuse me, Rose. I find myself needing to speak with him even more urgently.” 

As her friend left, Rose carefully rolled her manuscript back up and fed it back into its scroll case, dropping it into the trunk that held several similar items. As she made to stand, she paused, the familiar creeping of darkness along the edges of her vision warning her to sit back down. 

Smoky tendrils curled along her face, probing at her lips and sweeping over her eyes, whispering guttural half-nonsense into her ears. 

Ah, good. Dave would be arriving in two day's time, which meant that Feferi was making the journey to Skaia. 

Rose pressed her lips to the slowly retreating tentacle, smiling when it wriggled contentedly before fading away. She'd go and inform Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3 There's a little more detail on Rose for you all! 
> 
> And hurray! Princess Feferi is coming! 38D


	13. Ahoy, Princess!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feferi arrives in Skaia and settles in the Inn, deciding a party is overdue. She'll get around to the more official business tomorrow.

Feferi watched from the bow of her ship, shifting between concerned and amused. Her knight had engaged in combat with some strange troll and seemed to be having a difficult time of it, as it had been five minutes and he'd still not dispatched his foe. From her vantage point she could see Karkat stomping his way down from the main village path, headed toward the docks with murder in every step. 

The odd troll girl yowled and hissed, and finally grabbed Dave's sword by the blade and ripped it from him, taking it in her other palm and snapping it into two jagged pieces, which she then promptly tossed into the ocean with a spattering of olive blood. 

“Yeah okay not like that hilt was ruby encrusted or anything. Precious gems don't mean shit to me, after all. But still, _what the fuck_.” 

Feferi was hurrying from the ship and down the pier in order to intercept, but Karkat beat her to it, grabbing the troll girl and hauling her into what looked like a borderline painful embrace. 

“ _WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!_ ” He managed to screech tenderly, something that Feferi had never thought possible. Leave it to the Vantas line. 

“Looks like you've broken yet another blade, Dave,” she murmured to her knight, who scoffed. “Can't put that one on my tab, Fish Princess. That was alllll catgirl here.” 

“Nepeta, I swear, I was about to raze the jungle looking for you. Where did you go? Why did you leave? If Eridan did something I am going to pin him to the wall by his earfins and let Kanaya go wild with her saw.” 

The girl, Nepeta apparently, purred and nibbled affectionately at Karkat's ear, Dave and the threat he'd posed obviously forgotten. Karkat caught sight of Feferi over Nepeta's shoulder and reluctantly released her, ducking his head quickly in the slightest of bows. 

“Good to see you again, Princess,” he managed, though he was still shooting Dave dirty looks. “The troll woman here that your knight was attacking just so happens to be my matesprit, Nepeta.” 

Feferi laughed, sweeping past a poker-faced Dave in order to examine Nepeta more closely, utterly intrigued. “So you're the one who has finally softened our grumpy Karcrab? How did you manage to butter him up?” 

Nepeta blinked, looking Feferi up and down, somewhat distracted by the sheer amount of shiny metal jewelry and gems that the woman was bedecked in. The large two-ended golden trident was also similarly questionable, but since it was a weapon, Nepeta felt that she could let it slide. “Karkitty is my mate. I wooed him with animal flesh and lots of sex.” 

Dave's eyebrows rose high over the rims of his dark glasses, and even higher when Nepeta tacked on, “Oh, and lots of blood, too.” 

Feferi giggled, reaching out and poking Nepeta in the shoulder. “I like you! So honest and open! I'm going to guess that you're one of the werecats that Aranea wrote about? Not Felide, obviously, since you're Nepeta.” 

The girl nodded, then blurted out, “Can I play with your weapon?” 

Karkat looked horrified and Dave stepped forward, seeming to forget that he'd lost his sword. Feferi waved them both off with another laugh, giving her trident a quick spin and then holding it out to Nepeta, who took it with excitement. “Show me how you did that! I wanna spin it, too!” 

“I'll show you on the walk up to the Inn,” Feferi promised. 

\---

Equius hauled Nepeta away from the Princess yet again, uttering rushed and stilted apologies. For her part, Feferi didn't seem to mind, amused and enchanted by the werecat's antics, as well as Equius's numerous interventions. “Has she won you over, too, Equius?” Feferi cooed, and Nepeta wriggled in his grip when he began sweating profusely. 

Karkat seemed like he wanted to snatch his matesprit from the bulging arms of the blacksmith, but was just barely keeping the urge under control. Feferi thought that was just the cutest thing she'd ever seen. 

With the exception, perhaps, of Felide and Carcin, who obviously only had eyes for each other. 

Feferi had been seated in the most comfortable arm chair that the Inn had to offer, and served by Meguri herself, a wooden tankard of a strange fruity smelling beverage. Eridan had swept to her side immediately, one of his ringed hands on her shoulder, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so content, surrounded by all the love in the Inn and the adoring touch of her palemate. 

When Eridan cleared his throat the villagers that had crammed themselves into the building quieted down, and Feferi delicately patted his hand in thanks. 

“Her Imperious Condescension has sent me to view the progress that you all have made on your village, and to see if there is ample room for perhaps more permanent villagers to be shipped over. As always, His Imperial Patriarch sends his regards.” She dropped a wink at Jane and John, whose faces split with grins.   
“I have with me letters that your families have written to you. Dave will distribute them accordingly. That's the only official business for tonight!” She smiled and raised her tankard to the crowded Inn, who cheered and raised their drinks in return. 

\---

“ _Equius_. I can drink if I want to!” Nepeta whined, pawing at the thick forearm that was holding her cup away, somewhere above her head. She could have easily jumped up and gnabbed it, but that took all the fun out of the game. The large troll shook his head. “Absolutely not. I don't trust Miss Roxy's foul concoctions. Horuss shared a bottle with her in a moment of weak judgment and had a terrible headache the rest of the next day.” 

Nepeta pouted, widening her eyes and wobbling her lower lip. Karkat gasped, feeling like he'd been suckerpunched directly in the heart, but Equius only stared sternly down at the were, before submitting with a sigh. “One cup, Nepeta.” 

“One cup of each kind? So very generous of you, Equius!” “No! That is not what I meant, and you know it!” 

Karkat jumped slightly when Kanaya settled next to him, pointedly looking away from his matesprit's blatant public pale flirting. It was embarrassing, really, but it wasn't like she knew any better. Plus, it was adorable. Equius was so pointedly gentle with her, even in his demands. Nepeta got away with everything she wanted to, until it became legitimately dangerous. 

Like the incident with attempting to maul Terezi because she'd seen the scratch marks she'd left on Karkat after one of their encounters. 

He was wondering if perhaps the two would need an auspistice when Kanaya gently laid a hand on his knee, gathering his attention. 

“They really are a good pair,” she said quietly, affection written on her face. “Who would have known.” 

He wondered if he detected a hint of longing in her voice, and how he felt about that. He had considered courting Kanaya pale for a long while now, but could never quite drill up the courage to do it. She was so serene, so gentile, while Karkat himself was a screeching clusterfuck of a troll. He couldn't imagine Kanaya needing pacifying – not when she was already so self-contained. It just wouldn't be a balanced relationship. 

She'd be better off trying to fix the shambling mess that was Vriska, or maybe even - 

His thoughts were derailed when he finally registered the nearly silent furious thrumming that was coming from Kanaya's throat, and he tracked her line of sight to see what she was so upset about, nearly toppling from his chair when he saw that it was the Princess, who was clearly leveling a classic bedroom eyes stare at the jadeblood. 

“Kanaya _what_ ,” he whisper-screamed, clutching at her skirts. Why was she _snarling at Feferi_? 

“She's only doing it because she knows such lewd displays of concupiscent interest irritate me,” she replied, turning her head to look at Karkat and studiously ignoring the victorious smirk Feferi had adopted. “She was looking at Equius first, then when she noticed I was watching, turned her attentions to me. She doesn't mean any of it, she's just...” 

Kanaya huffed aggravatedly, grumbling, “To use a term Porrim would no doubt flay me alive for, our dear Princess is just a bedhopper.” 

Holy shit that was treason. Kanaya was _speaking treason_. 

“It wouldn't surprise me in the least if it was found out that she and her moirail engage in more flushed activities,” she continued in the same quietly angry tone, adding on with a hiss, “No fidelity.” 

Karkat just boggled at her, and said somewhat dumbly, “Do you...do you need an auspistice?” 

That seemed to snap Kanaya out of her funk, and she flushed, shaking her head. “Oh! No, no, that won't be necessary. My dislike for her is purely platonic, I assure you.” She paused, then said hesitantly, “But...thank you for your concern, Karkat. I appreciate it.” 

Yes, well. Karkat cleared his throat awkwardly, nodding and hoping against hope that his cheeks weren't burning like he suspected that they were. Kanaya shifted uncertainly, then reached her hand out to link pinkies with him, looking studiously in the other direction. 

\---

Everyone was clearing out of the Inn and tavern, more than a few stumbling drunkenly. Roxy was being courteously escorted toward her shared home with Dirk by Eridan, who flushed every time she leaned against his shoulder and babbled something about 'fish lips'. 

Nepeta waved sleepily to Meulin as she passed, guided by a fussing Karkat. Her sister nodded mutely in response, hand in hand with Kurloz and looking vaguely unsettled. Nepeta was shooed away too quickly to notice anything wrong, Karkat eager to get them home and into bed, where he could no doubt chide her for drinking so much of Roxy's delicious inventions. 

She tipped into the bed and sighed happily, wriggling about in the sheets and opening her arms for Karkat, who was currently shucking out of his shirt and pants. He flopped next to her once he was finished, and she purred, cradling him close and sniffing his hair, melting into the scent of sweat and blood and _hers_. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but she quickly covered it with her own, humming sweetly and caressing his back, gently trailing her claws along the shifting muscles. Karkat sighed into her mouth and softened, hooking their ankles and rolling them over so that he could sprawl on top of his matesprit, one hand roaming her side while the other plucked at her underwear. 

Too tired and too swimming in wine for anything fast or furious, Nepeta found herself in the strange free-falling sensation of slow, affectionate lovemaking, and she held tight to Karkat, not wanting to let him go. His lips pressed warm kisses to her throat and her shoulders, trailing over her collarbones and the tops of her breasts, and she lazily curled her legs around his waist, rocking along in tandem with him, purring under her breath. 

Never had release been so sweet, or so drawn out, she thought, not even bothering to fuss when Karkat peeled the messy sheets from the bed once they were done. She pulled him back to her and folded him in her embrace, tucking his head into her shoulder and slinging a leg over him, yawning widely. She'd missed him the entire time she'd been hiding out, sorting through her mixed emotions over what had happened on the docks. 

She'd only returned there in order to have it out again with Eridan, and had been surprised by the human with the sword that had fallen upon her, evidently thinking she was out to attack whoever was on the ship. Yeah, it had been a sea-troll, but it hadn't been the one she was going to sink her teeth into. Thankfully Karkat had arrived and she'd been suitably distracted. 

The entire evening, actually, her attention had been continually pulled away from the violet idiot, either by the Princess herself or by Equius's sturdy affections. She'd even danced a little with Jade and Damara, though she didn't understand a word that the latter had said. 

Oh, well. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow, she'd put Eridan in his place.


	14. What are you talking aboat, Fef?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta has a strange run-in with her sister and spends most of her day chittering with Princess Feferi.

She woke abruptly, though didn't open her eyes, keeping her breathing lazy and still. Karkat shifted underneath her with a grating snore, and she turned her cheek in order to face toward the hut's door-curtain, subtly scenting the air for the source of her unease. There was an intruder, someone who certainly didn't belong there. Her smell was very familiar, however, which only deepened her confusion.

When she heard the scuff of a foot on the floor that meant the intruder had turned away from her, Nepeta opened her eyes, staring at her sister's back with a frown. Meulin leaned over the rack that Karkat hung his weapons and armor from, wiping a rag along his sickle's edge, over and over, coating it in some substance that had no discernible scent. 

“What are you doing?” Nepeta muttered, nose wrinkling when Meulin didn't turn around or even drop the cloth, just continuing her strange silent ministrations. 

She rose from the bed and padded up behind her sister, reaching out and tugging gently on a long lock of hair. “Mew? What are you doing?” 

Meulin shuddered and gasped abruptly, hands clenching shut as she panted for breath, like she'd just come up for air from the bottom of the ocean. She swung to face Nepeta, one hand raised and ready to strike, though she dropped it when she recognized her sister. 

“Nepeta! I...where am I?” 

Meulin stared at the inside of Karkat's hut, looking baffled and _scared_. 

“You're in my hut,” Nepeta murmured, not wanting to wake her still sleeping mate. “What were you doing in here? Are you...okay?” 

Fear and confusion and betrayal seemed to be wafting off of Meulin in clouds of barely concealed emotion. She just shook her head, clutching her hands to her chest, and refused to say anything else, slowly edging for the door, like Nepeta was holding her there as a hostage instead of just asking her questions. 

“Meulin?” 

“I have to go. I'll talk to you later, Nep.” 

With that, her sister sprung through the door, the curtain ruffling behind her. She'd taken whatever rag she'd been using with her, and instead of giving chase like she wanted to, Nepeta leaned down to sniff at Karkat's sickle again, curious. It smelled like it always did, and whatever had been wiped on it had already dried. 

Maybe Meulin had just been sleep walking? She'd done that sometimes when they were younger, though she'd stopped after she'd gone ambling out of a window. 

Behind her Karkat stirred, sitting up in bed and stretching his arms up into the air with a great groan. She turned to him, slinking back onto the bed and butting her head underneath his chin with an affectionate chirr. Her sister's weirdness was shuffled into the back of her mind. She had a mate to attend to. 

\---  
Princess Feferi's 'royal business' included a village-wide tour, where she went about inspecting each building and facility with a highly critical eye, tapping at walls and windows and nudging her slipper-clad foot against doorways and cabinets. Equius sweated up a storm the entire time that she was in the smithy, but with the heat from the forge it came off as an occupational hazard instead of nerves. Nepeta had taken to trailing around after her, amused by every villager's different reaction to having royalty gliding around their little homestead. 

“Mother wants Skaia to grow into a large port city!” Feferi explained to Nepeta as they walked, gesturing with her trident. “So when I go back home and give my say so, she'll send more ships with more supplies to make MORE buildings and houses! And more people, of course, to plow more fields for more food!” 

That was an awful lot of 'more more more'. So far Skaia had been the largest settlement that Nepeta had ever seen, and she was having a hard time imagining it being even bigger, swollen with inhabitants going about their lives. 

“You've all done a very good job at building up the basics. Princess Jane has worked wonders with those communal kitchens!” 

Jane was a princess, too? Why hadn't she ever said anything? Did that mean that her brother, John, was some kind of princess as well? Royalty didn't really make any sense. 

Though, if Felide was queen of the jungle, did that make Nepeta and Meulin princesses? For a moment Nepeta imagined herself draped in all of Feferi's finery and heavy gold jewelry, and shook her head viciously to rid herself of the image. She'd stick to her teeth and bones and pelts, thanks. 

“So far the only concerning thing I've seen was the Dark Carnival tent tucked away behind the Inn.” Feferi was frowning, one jewel-encrusted finger pressed to her lips as she thought. 

“Why is that a problem?” Nepeta asked, slowly coming to a stop when Feferi halted in the middle of the road. The princess whirled to face her, hands braced on her wide hips. 

“I'll spare you a scolding because you're a feral jungle girl and couldn't possibly know this. When His Imperial Patriarch rose to power as a partner in ruling over the kingdom about fifteen sweeps ago, he found the Dark Carnival and its focus on revelry in violence to be distasteful. My mother was wanting to steer Alternia in a new direction as well, and fully embraced the Church of the Signless as the kingdom's official religion.” Feferi rattled everything off with the ease of someone who had it committed to memory, and Nepeta just kind of tilted her head and squinted, trying to take it all in. 

“Some remnant cults still exist, of course, as nothing is ever stamped out completely. The Grand Highblood, who was a high ranking figure in the Carnival, accepted the switch as gracefully as he could, but still came close to banishment. He still serves in mother's court, and is one of her closest advisors, but...” 

Feferi's voice dropped to a soft whisper, and Nepeta leaned in closer to listen at her bidding, despite the fact that she could have heard the girl all the way on the other side of Skaia. 

“Sometimes I worry that he's planning to stage a coup. There was an assassination attempt on Carcin not too long ago, which is why he's all the way out here in the tiny village instead of presiding over his big grand church back home.” 

Nepeta mewled quietly in worry, feeling a thrill of fear for the well-being of her mother's mate. Feferi patted her gently on the shoulder, consoling in her own way. “But! He should be pretty safe here, with three werecats guarding him, yeah?” 

She smiled back at Feferi's wide toothy grin, nodding. “Nowhere's safer!” 

Dave huffed from where he was leaning against a fence post close by, a new sword dangling from his belt. Nepeta had come to understand that he was part of Princess Feferi's personal guard, but had been the only one to accompany her to Skaia. Apparently such a little village didn't require the whole outfit of bodyguards. 

Whether or not he approved of Feferi's loose-lipped approach to kingdom politics didn't show on his face. Really, nothing did, but that didn't bother Nepeta. She could scent his emotions and reactions on him, much like she'd learned to do with Dirk. 

“But yes. Whoever put that tent up will need to take it down. Skaia is going to be the newest branch of Alternia and we need to stamp out the cult while it is still little!” 

Nepeta frowned. “But Kurloz and Gamzee live in that tent.” 

Dave's hand tightened on the grip of his sword around the same time that Feferi gasped quietly, her hands flying to Nepeta's shoulders, shaking her lightly. She noted that the princess had a rather tight grip. 

“Kurloz and Gamzee _Makara_?” Feferi trilled in some strange kind of undulating undertone, her eyes narrowing. Nepeta just blinked, twitching her ears. She didn't know anybody named Makara. 

“Who's Makara? Is that another brother?” 

“No, kitty cat, that's their family name,” Dave drawled, his calm neutral expression and posture completely at odds with the scent of tense unease that rolled off of him. 

Nepeta failed to see what the problem was. Gamzee and Kurloz had been living in the village since it had been nothing but a stretch of trees and earth, and all of the villagers seemed to accept them. They hadn't caused any trouble that Nepeta knew of, other than Gamzee's apparent sopor issues. 

Feferi grabbed at her shoulders, and she hissed softly, not overly fond of the way that the princess's fingers dug into her flesh. “Nepeta, those two are _dangerous_. And they are definitely not supposed to be in a place that we're trying to establish a fresh new branch of the kingdom in. Whoever approved them for the expedition party, it wasn't the Queen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. That's a problem.


	15. Palemate, Pitchmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More oddness with Meulin leaves Nepeta in an understandably foul mood.

The scrabble to find Meulin had been immediate. Nepeta had run straight for Felide, interrupting what seemed to be a lazy lunchtime nap in the mudbrick home that Carcin had built with his matesprit's help. It took a few moments of fighting off Felide's attempt to groom her hair before Nepeta could adequately deliver her news, but once she'd managed to hiss out the gist of it, her mother was still. 

“So Meulin has been with a dangerous cultist this entire time?” Felide murmured, eyes cutting to Carcin in order to silently ask his opinion. The eldest Vantas seemed deep in thought, reclining against the mountain of pillows that made up most of their living room. 

“I could never smell any dangerous intent on him,” Nepeta grumbled, “Or anything coming from Meulin.” 

It rankled deep in her that her sister was keeping company with dangerous cultists and she'd had no idea. Meulin was more than capable of keeping herself safe, of course, but that didn't mean that Nepeta wanted her to face any potential threats on her own. 

“I was surprised to see the brothers here,” Carcin finally said quietly, crossing his ankles and shifting on the pillows. “And even more surprised that their father would let them out of his sight. Gamzee has a history of mental instability, and Kurloz was a priest of some sort within the cult.” 

If that was common knowledge, how come the two hadn't been run out of Skaia as soon as they'd arrived? They mostly kept to themselves and did very little interacting with the other settlers, so maybe it was possible that they'd been mostly forgotten about. But _still_. It all just seemed very wrong. 

In the end, Meulin was found assisting Eridan with his latest catch down by the docks, and very confused as to why her mother and sister had been worked into a frenzy of concern. When she refused Felide's invitation to a quiet family dinner and politely excused herself, Nepeta boggled after her sister's retreating back. 

They weren't supposed to refuse their mother _anything_. 

Felide, however, didn't react as if anything strange had happened, shrugging idly and moseying back toward her home, where her mate waited for her. Nepeta was left standing on the docks by herself, mouth dropped open in shock and awe, ears drooping. Well, not entirely by herself. 

A wet slap sounded on the wood by her feet, and she glared down at Eridan's sneering face, her mouth shutting with a clicking of teeth. He hauled the squirming net full of fish up onto the pier and shoved it toward her so that he could free his hands to pull himself up. Nepeta absolutely did not notice the way that his abdomen rippled, or the sleek musculature of his swimmer's arms. And she most certainly did not feel a surge of furious interest when he bared his teeth at her in a nasty grin. 

Eridan was disgusting. Really. Just revolting in every way. 

Because she was in a foul mood and Meulin's actions both concerned and worried her, Nepeta didn't feel bad at all when she punted Eridan's net full of hard-won fish right back off of the pier, gratified when the whole thing fell open and the day's catch escaped in a flurry of frenzied motion. She leaped backward and out of the way of his enraged grasp, baring her teeth in a hiss before absconding. 

Hmm. She should really terrorize him more often. Seeing that smoldering hatred in his eyes when she pissed him off really made her feel better. 

\---

Her respite from her terrible mood didn't last long. Karkat was out in the 'field' with his troop investigating the disappearance of some of Skaia's livestock, which meant that she didn't get to take her daily afternoon nap with him. She was awake and grumpy and because she'd kicked the day's catch off of the pier that meant that there was no meat to be served with lunch. Nepeta could always go and find something herself, but the option wasn't currently all that appetizing. She'd grown accustomed to Jane's fabulous cooking, and everything else really paled in comparison. 

She'd been spoiled in this village. 

Because Sollux and Mituna had gone with Karkat, Nepeta didn't have her usual sparring partners. She'd tracked Equius down intending to get him to cave in and amuse her, but instead he was sitting across from her in the Inn, munching tamely on his salad. 

She stared at him without bothering to hide her foul mood, hunched over with her arms folded on the table. He paused in his calm decimation of a carrot and gestured toward his plate, silently offering her some of his lunch. Nepeta stuck her tongue out at him in disgust. 

“So what's this I hear about you beginning some pitched courtship of Mr. Ampora?” Equius asked her after he'd finished his mouthful, gazing at her expectantly. Nepeta snarled at him. “You don't hear anything because it's not true. He's awful but I don't want anything to do with him.” 

His raised eyebrow communicated that he bought exactly none of what she was selling. It was another annoyance heaped onto the pile of crap that was her bad day, and she reached forward and flicked one of his croutons off of his plate, grunting when it hit him on the shoulder instead of his face, like she'd been aiming for. 

“Don't see why you care. Not like you're my moirail or anything.” 

The sudden silence that blanketed the Inn was deafening, and Nepeta raised her head, curious. Carcin and Illiaa were playing chess a few tables away and had paused in their game, the jadeblood's queen held delicately between two fingers. Meguri was frozen behind the bar with Aradia, both wearing eerily similar wide eyed expressions. Dirk hadn't looked up from his hand of cards, but Roxy was lurching from her seat, stumbling drunkenly over to Nepeta and tossing an arm over her shoulders. 

“Nep, that is some serious slander you're throwin',” the girl breezed, but it was easy to ignore her. Nepeta's attention was focused on Equius, who had gone deathly still, only his throat bobbing when he swallowed thickly. The fork he'd been eating with bent and then abruptly snapped in his grip, earning a yelp of surprise from Roxy. 

“Well, he's not,” Nepeta grumbled, ears slanted back. “We never talked about it.” 

“Yeah okay hon but you just don't throw that in his face in public!” Roxy flailed an arm around in an attempt to illustrate her point, indicating the other people in the Inn. “Relationship junk is purrvite! Oops. Private!” 

“You must excuse me,” Equius said quietly, pushing himself up from his chair and nearly knocking the table over. Nepeta steadied it immediately with one hand, popping up from her own seat. “Well, I won't! You're _not_ excused!” 

The tall troll wavered, visibly distressed, wiping sweat from his brow. Roxy tutted sympathetically, wringing her hands and shooting glances back and forth between the two trolls, unsure of what to do. Dirk crooked a finger to summon her back to their table, and she went with a worried glance over her shoulder. 

“We're gunna have this talk, Eq,” Nepeta rumbled, climbing over the table and advancing on him. She hopped up and snagged him by the back of his shirt, dragging him bodily toward the door. 

“This is unseemly behavior!” He exclaimed, though made no further attempts at extricating himself from the situation, allowing Nepeta to haul him out of the Inn and into the street. “Nepeta!” 

She stomped into the building that housed the smithy and Equius's own private quarters, shoving the blacksmith back towards his bed and shutting the door behind her, standing in front of it. Being Karkat's matesprit meant that Nepeta had suffered through endless lectures and ideologies about quadrants, moirallegience in particular. In Carcin's church, pale was seen as the most important quadrant by far, and was elevated above all others. 

She was going to set hers straight. 

“I might have been born in the jungle but I'm not an idiot when it comes to quadrants, Equius,” Nepeta started, crossing her arms over her chest. “I haven't had one day where Karkat isn't spluttering over how you've been pale flirting with me all the time.” 

He grimaced, gingerly taking a seat on the end of his bed. “I can't help but feel that it is my duty to educate you on the finer points of society, since you've been very stubborn about integrating yourself. Living amicably with other trolls requires a certain level of sophistication and gentility that you lack.” 

Nepeta narrowed her eyes at him, tail lashing as she waited for him to get to the point. 

“In the beginning of our acquaintance, I simply wanted to impart my knowledge to you, as I felt was my duty. However, every additional day in your presence has only exacerbated the original pale twinges I felt, until the point that I have found myself hopelessly devoted to improving and tempering you.” 

That was offensive, but she understood what he meant. 

“You're dangerous, Nepeta. If you don't exercise proper control over your strength and your actions you could fatally wound someone. And I find it...an attractive prospect, to say the least, to be the troll that pacifies you.” 

He was sweating up a storm by this point, and her nose wrinkled at the sharp stench of it. Equius rose from the bed and took the few steps necessary to stand before her, dropping to his knees. His eyes were still level with her own, such was the truly ridiculous difference in their heights, and somehow, Nepeta had never felt smaller. He took one of her clawed hands delicately in both of his own, pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles. 

“It would be my honor and my pride to be your moirail, Nepeta,” he murmured, his deep tones sliding over her ears like the softest of fur, his eyes dropped to the floor, no doubt studying her feet. She reached out and placed her free hand between his horns, unsure of what else to do. Was there some kind of ritual she was supposed to be following?

“When you're around I want to murder Terezi less,” she said quietly, feeling like she needed to share how she felt, too. “My claws don't feel as sharp. My fangs don't itch to bite. You make it easier to breathe when I feel like the walls in this village are closing in on me. You...” 

Nepeta paused, mulling over her next sentence before she said it. It required a deep breath and a steeling of her nerves. 

“You make me feel like I don't _have_ to go back to the jungle, Equius, no matter how much I want to.” 

His chin jerked upward and he stared at her, and she removed her hand from his head in order to slide the dark cracked glasses off of his nose. While he blinked, adjusting, she bent and kissed the tip of his nose, and then his forehead, burying her nose in his hair and breathing in deeply. Her palemate smelled like sweat and smoke and metal and steam, like her and like Skaia and like love. 

\---

“So just in case anybody ever doubted the fact that my matesprit is a badass, and better than every single one of you,” Karkat paused to give Terezi a significant look, to which she just snickered, before continuing, “Yesterday she stormed the gates and claimed her moirail like a goddamn _boss_ and I am ridiculously proud of her.” 

Nepeta giggled from her place of honor at their table in the Inn, slightly overwhelmed. Feferi would be on the next ship back to Alternia come the morning, so the Princess had decided to throw one last party before she took her leave. Nepeta's table had been swarmed by people that wanted to hear the latest gossip, but ensconced as she was between her matesprit and her moirail she didn't get too many chances to speak to anyone between their fussing and carrying on. Roxy had slammed a tankard of only she knew what on the table in front of the werecat and winked, off to go smooze with Jane and Porrim. Feferi herself had tugged playfully on one of Nepeta's ears before taking her seat on the upraised dais, flanked by Eridan and Vriska. 

“There is much for you to be proud of when it comes to Nepeta,” Equius said smoothly, attempting to subtly inch the tankard further out of her reach. “I know that I have many reasons to be.” 

Kanaya chuckled from her seat on Karkat's other side, though Nepeta wasn't sure if it was because of Equius, or something that Rose had said. The blonde still made her fur want to stand on end, but if Kanaya trusted her, then Nepeta supposed that she could, too. 

“HEY, BIG BLUE!” Vriska hollered from across the Inn, pitching an empty shot glass at Equius that Nepeta snagged deftly out of the air before it could hit him in the back of the head. “Come and give me a run for my money! You're proooooooobably the only troll here big enough to drink me under the table!” 

Equius glanced at Nepeta, an eyebrow arched. She just shrugged, about to say that she didn't really care if he went or not, when Vriska taunted, “Quit hiding behind kitty cat's whiskers and get your big muscley butt over here!” 

“Make sure she has a headache in the morning,” Nepeta hissed, pushing her moirail towards the bar and a grinning Vriska. 

Once he'd gone, Sollux dropped into the place he'd vacated, leaning around her to poke Karkat in the ribs. Karkat glowered and swatted at the psionic's slim hand, grunting out a, “You done drooling your sad pining self all over Princess Feferi?” 

And while that was interesting, Nepeta found that she had other things to be paying attention to. Eridan was watching her from his post beside Feferi, raising a smarmy brow and fluttering his fins when he noticed that she'd seen him. She bared her fangs, ignoring Kanaya and Rose's hushed giggling. Jade snorted from behind the rim of her stein, rolling her eyes. 

“If you wanna hatefuck him so bad just go over there and drag him away, feral werekitty style.” When Nepeta hissed at her, Jade just snickered. “Show him how you rumble in the jungle.” The girl made a few obscene hip motions that caused Kanaya to blush and Karkat sputter, and rose Nepeta's impression of her by a few notches. 

Maybe she'd do just that. 

She chugged down the contents of her tankard and coughed when it burned, blinking her eyes and exhaling harshly when she'd finished. Had Roxy finally managed to create something that could get even a werecat drunk? She had the _best_ friends. 

“Go get him, tiger,” Jade growled, sending Sollux into a fit of laughter. Nepeta gave her a salute and pecked Karkat on the cheek before she stood and made her way over to where Eridan was leaning against the bar on his elbows, watching her with interest.   
Feferi smiled at her when she approached, then glanced between her and Eridan and seemed to get the picture, laughing throatily. “Get out of here, you two,” she waved her hand imperiously, shaking her head. “As much as I think I'd want to see that, I'm too busy watching Vriska getting her cocky ass handed to her.” 

That was all the permission she needed. Nepeta snapped her hand out and curled her fingers in Eridan's shirt front, hauling him away from the bar and pulling him onto his toes. Meguri pointed upstairs with an amused smirk, and Nepeta heaved Eridan up onto her shoulder to begin the ascent. The seatroll immediately began kicking, and even pulled at her tail, but she ignored him, taking the stairs two at a time and delighting in the background of slightly drunken laughter and merriment that trailed after them, getting quieter and muffled when she reached the second floor. 

She bumped open the door to one of the guest rooms with her hip, rolling her shoulders and pitching Eridan forward onto the bed, shutting the door behind her. 

“About time you took notice,” Eridan hissed, managing to make righting himself on the bed look graceful instead of the uncoordinated fumble it should have been. “What kind of idiot doesn't realize when they're being eye-fucked or blackflirted with?” 

“Maybe you're just really bad at it,” Nepeta suggested, leaning against the door with a smirk. “Your face always kind of looks like you've smelled something dead and rotten, so how was I supposed to know?” 

“Besides,” she continues, drinking in his furious expression. “What kind of idiot would want to blackflirt with a creature that could kill him easier than breathing?” 

His fins fluttered and a flush rose on his cheeks, his eyes glittering with something that Nepeta couldn't quite place. “But you won't,” he snarled, his pointed teeth grit together, “Because if you did, then you wouldn't get to fuck me.” 

It took some effort, but she schooled her face into indifference, feigning a yawn. “What makes you think I want to, anyway?” 

His scent nearly exploded, lust and rage and _want_ crashing away from him like a waterfall. He slung himself off of the bed and advanced on her, hands gripping her shoulders like vices. “You're not the only one that can smell like you do, Nep.” 

Eridan's voice was deep and gravelly and oddly undulating, like water babbling over stones. It wormed into her ears and pinged at her brain, stirred her breath into a furious pant through her nose, caused her chest to heave. 

“Kar may have been sweet with you, but I won't be. I'll cut you apart and make you bleed, lick your wounds before I pour salt in them.” His lips brushed against the shell of her ear as he spoke, and at one point he nipped at her, as if making good on his promises. Her upper lip curled in a silent snarl. 

Nepeta slammed her hand into his throat, fingers and thumb curling around the sleek column and shoving him away from her. Eridan staggered backwards with a wheezing cough, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. She leaped, crashing into his chest and knocking him onto the bed, grabbing his wrists and yanking them up over his head, holding them steady with one hand. 

“No,” she purred, relishing the way he arched against her. “I'm going to make _you_ bleed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sprained my finger and it's in a brace D: Makes typing kind of difficult, so updates will probably be slower until it heals up. (That's why this one took a bit longer, btw.)


	16. Weeeelll fuck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta and Eridan finally hash out their 'issues', but Nepeta finds that she has a much bigger problem waiting for her downstairs. 
> 
> Protect the Princess!

Perhaps she had underestimated the strength of a highblooded troll. Eridan thrashed and bucked and hissed, teeth gnashing, knees jerking. Nepeta settled herself between his legs and leaned her weight on his chest, running her claws down the side of his face in a mockery of tenderness. 

His resistance doubled when she nudged his chin into the air with her nose, sniffing inquisitively along his throat and the strange neck-gills that lay there, rimmed in violet. She laved at one experimentally with her tongue, pleased with the savage rasp that tore itself from Eridan's lips. Gently, she pressed her tongue to the remaining slits, riding out the panicked seizing of the troll beneath her. 

“Nep!” He snarled, but she ignored him, taking her time with exploring. Those stupid fins were quivering, one batting against her cheek, and she turned her face to nip at it, savoring the keening whine she got in return. 

“Nothing but big talk,” Nepeta murmured into his ear, squeezing the hand that grasped his wrists. “Like a kitten with a squeaky roar.” 

Eridan reared forward and latched his teeth onto her shoulder with a horrible hiss, rocking against her and loosening her grip. He twisted his arm and managed to free one of his hands, which he promptly put to use grabbing her hair, twisting his fingers in the wild strands. Nepeta yowled and scratched at him when he shoved her down, effectively reversing their positions. 

“You're not the only freak here, Nep,” he panted, smears of olive blood around his lips, dribbling down his chin. Seeing her colors on his skin ignited the slow burning heat she'd been nursing, and she rocked her hips against him, smirking when he groaned. 

There was a scratch on his cheek that was dribbling violet blood, and she watched it with an intensity born of lust, snaking one hand up to swipe some of the blood onto her fingertip. Eridan didn't bother to stop her, too busy attempting to claw off her breast band. 

Oh. That was a good idea. One of the best he'd ever had, really. Not that she'd tell him. She flexed her claws and took great pleasure in rending them through the expensive silky material of his shirt, giggling at the murderous expression he shot her. Nepeta shredded the side seams of his pants down until she could no longer reach, hissing when Eridan tore her hip-pelt off of her and tossed it across the room. 

She lurched in to bite him but was met with a painful clashing of lips, Eridan's hands threading through her hair and yanking her head to the side so that he could bury his teeth in her neck. Nepeta seized against him with a guttural moan, claws scrabbling at his back and sides. His teeth were so _sharp_ and so _good_. 

He pulled away to admire his handiwork, more olive green painted on his mouth, and she shoved him backward with her feet, rolling forward and planting herself on his lap. She'd managed to obliterate his undergarments along with his trousers, and a quick slice of her claws did away with her own smallclothes. 

His bulge writhed from where it was pinned between their stomachs, seeking and desperate. She grasped it perhaps too tightly, squeezing and sliding her hand while she sank her fangs into his shoulder and throat, driven on by his whines and keens and trills. 

“Nep, urhg, _fuck_ ,” Eridan gurgled, grasping her hips and lifting her, gasping when her bulge smacked wetly against his abdomen. She wriggled, positioning herself, angling him with her hand and hissing when his tip probed against the entrance of her nook. She slid down with a thrust of her hips, her moan drowned out by Eridan's litany of, “ _Fuuuuuuuck yes, yes, shit!_ ”

Nepeta pinned his shoulders to the wall, rocking and sliding and grinding on his lap while his claws trailed down her sides, dug into her back. She leaned forward and snagged a fin in her teeth, jerking on it roughly just to see tears well in Eridan's eyes. 

His bulge seized inside her, lashing and wriggling where it could in the confined space, and she rode it viciously, hips rolling with a vengeance. His head rocked forward so that he could bite and nip at her chest, drawing thin lines of blood before the wounds healed over. She lapped at the blood that welled from a scratch over his left eye while he gasped into the space between her breasts, hot puffs of breath on her skin only fueling the power with which she drove down on him, merciless and bruising. 

Eridan rose to kiss her, lips sucking and devouring, a thin line of saliva stringing between their mouths when they parted to snarl at one another. 

“I swear on the queen's royal tits, if you stop, I'll kill you,” he panted, snapping his hips up to meet her thrust. To her utter horror, she mewled, head rolling back with a ragged moan. 

He pressed bloody kisses to her exposed throat, his claws clutching tightly at her hips as her movements became frantic, erratic. When she wailed, nook convulsing and shuddering, he shoved her onto her back on the bed and seized her legs, angling her knees over his shoulders and plowing forward, pistoning into her as she jerked and whined, coming with a mewling cry. 

Nepeta panted and whimpered and fought to catch her breath as Eridan finished, his face screwing up into a horrendous gnashing of teeth and screwed shut eyes. When he finally stilled, genetic material splashed against his abdomen and dribbling down her thighs, she pulled her legs back and kicked him, giggling when he fell backward with a huff. 

“I prefer Karkitty,” she mused aloud after a few quiet moments of harsh breathing, cackling when he flipped her off. “I don't care what you prefer, you're getting what I give you and I don't care if you like it.” Eridan drawled, too content and utterly fucked to formulate much more of an argument. 

Deciding that she didn't care that her breastband was ruined and that she'd be doing the Inn a favor by going back downstairs without it, Nepeta rolled off of the bed and tied her hip-pelt back around her waist, smirking when Eridan realized that his clothes had been shredded beyond repair. She blew him a kiss when she slipped out of the door, skipping back downstairs without him. 

\---

She was met with chaos. 

 

Princess Feferi stood on the bar, her trident held defensively in front of her, while Sollux held a wriggling and thrashing Gamzee in the air with crackling psionics. Karkat had risen from his seat and had his sickle drawn, eyes roving the Inn for any further threats, while Meulin had a hand pressed over her mouth, looking horrified. 

Terezi and Vriska were wrestling down a strangely compliant Kurloz. John and Jane had taken up guard on either side of Feferi, with Dave and Latula in front, swords drawn. 

Seriously? She'd been gone for like thirty minutes. 

“What's going on?” She asked Rose, who was standing quietly off to the side. The woman glanced at her for a moment, no doubt taking in her toplessness and all the blood smeared on her, before answering. 

“Gamzee and Kurloz made an appearance, and Feferi immediately called to have them arrested because they're here with illegal visas.” 

Nepeta pulled a face. That was it? Everyone was reacting like somebody had been attacked or like death threats had been made. She could understand that Feferi was just trying to protect her territory, but the level of buzzing energy in the room was kind of ridiculous. 

...Did Skaia even have a place to keep people who'd been 'arrested'? Whatever that meant? 

She made her way down the rest of the staircase and approached her mate, bumping her hip against him to get his attention. He was unnaturally tense, even for Karkat, his fingers clenching and unclenching on the grip of his weapon, a sheen of sweat broken out on his forehead. His eyes were screwed shut, and he shuddered, shaking his head like he was trying to dislodge an unpleasant thought. 

Nepeta lurched backward with a surprised hiss when Karkat moved in an explosion of motion, throwing his sickle on the floor and falling over, hunching in on himself in pain. He grabbed at his hair, his horns, cradling his head in his hands with a wail. 

Her head snapped up when Meulin moved, picking up the sickle from the floor and advancing on Feferi, leaping calmly over Latula's swinging blade and dodging the edge of Dave's sword with a roll. Nepeta watched her sister grasp Jane by the face and then throw her across the room, not even flicking a ear at the awful crashing sound from the woman colliding with a stack of wooden chairs. 

John leaped at Meulin, but was swatted away with a backhand to the stomach, the gusts of air he'd summoned displaced from his hands and doing nothing more than ruffling the werecat's hair. Meulin swung the sickle at the princess, who danced out of the way, taking a jab with her trident. 

Karkat was still howling on the floor, though now his eyes were open, flashing a multitude of strange colors. Nepeta had picked him up to cradle him in her arms, far beyond concerned at this point, but nothing she did calmed him. 

Meulin crouched on the bar, sickle held confidently in her grip, her own wide and glassy eyes glowing the same shifting colors as Karkat's. Feeling slightly sick, Nepeta shoved Karkat toward Kanaya, who knelt to pull him into her lap. Equius grabbed at her when she passed him, but she ducked, half-shifting and diving for Meulin, her claws scratching at the arm that held the weapon, teeth bared. 

They went down in a tangle of limbs and furious screeching, though Meulin quickly extricated herself, administering a swift kick in the head to her sister, who grunted at the impact and clawed wildly at the offending foot. 

While Nepeta tried to see past her spotty vision, she smelled rather than saw Felide snatch Meulin by her hair, shouting questions and accusations. Rolling onto her belly, Nepeta groaned and made an attempt at getting to her knees, vision still swimming. Vriska had rushed at Meulin and Felide, but Vriska still hovered over Kurloz, whose eyes...

Whose eyes were flashing purples and reds and greens, an eerie smile tugging the corners of his lips. Nepeta gasped, shaking her head until the soreness cleared and she could see properly again, thankful as always for her swift healing. Meulin and Felide had begun brawling, screeches and yowls and hisses filling in the spaces between the rest of the cacophony of shouting. 

Nepeta's eyes zeroed in on the sickle that Meulin kept slashing and hacking with, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her when she saw the slight shine along the edge. 

Vaguely, she remembered how odd Meulin had been behaving days and days ago, when she'd come into Karkat's hut in the early morning and rubbed something on the blade of his favorite sickle. 

She'd just pulled herself to her feet when Meulin threw Felide away from her with a feral roar, so far shifted that fur covered her skin and her eyes blazed, throwing echoes of color onto the walls like a light show. The werecat turned back to Feferi once more, who was advancing with her trident. 

The two danced toe to toe for long, unbearable moments where the rest of the Inn seemed to be holding their breaths, Dave and Latula occupied with a suddenly frenzied Gamzee, who had managed to break free from Sollux's grasp while he'd been distracted. Carcin held Felide by the shoulders, worrying over a slash on her chest that wasn't healing like it ought to be. 

Meulin finally grasped hold of the trident and heaved, bending the metal and tossing it away, an unnaturally wicked grin stretching her mouth. Nepeta was running before she knew what was happening, leaping in front of the princess with an enraged roar, her claws cutting jagged lines along her sister's face just as Meulin's sickle bit into the flesh of her side, carving a chunk of her right off. 

“IT'S KURLOZ!” Nepeta shrieked, desperately trying to find a way to disable her sister without hurting her more than she had to. Meulin however had no such compunctions – she continued to swipe and slice with her borrowed weapon, wittling away at Nepeta with no emotion in those glassy, glowing eyes. 

When Equius plowed a fist into Kurloz's ribs with an audible cracking crunch, Meulin dropped as if dead, hitting the floor with a thud. Karkat's pained howls finally died off, replaced with ragged gasping. Nepeta felt cool hands on her shoulders, and she allowed Feferi to pull her away from her sister's limp form, a kind of numbness already setting in. 

“That blade was poisoned,” Illiaa called out into the tense silence, hovering over Felide. “Get Nepeta and her mother to my clinic immediately. Princesses Feferi, Jane, attend me.” 

Jane had long since risen from the heap of broken furniture she'd been tossed into, rubbing absently at her head and wearing a heavy frown. Feferi looked ready to fight the command, but Jane just grasped her gently by the elbow and lead her out of the Inn. 

Nepeta swayed where she stood, finding it much harder to stand now that the princess wasn't holding her up. Equius was with her in just seconds, scooping her up into his arms and...she thought he made some comments about 'so much blood', but she couldn't be sure. She didn't think that her body was working right. Everything felt...so numb. 

“Get Karkat and Meulin, and Kurloz,” Illiaa called out, sweeping across the floor, her many skirts rustling. “Dave, Latula, detain Gamzee.” 

The knights nodded, Latula's blade pressed nice and snug to the younger indigo's throat, Dave's at his back. 

“Rose, with me,” Illiaa commanded, already gliding out of the door. Nepeta didn't know if the girl followed or not, as she'd turned in her moirail's arms, resting her cheek against his chest. He smelled comforting, and not like her sister's blood, caked on her claws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :33


	17. Cry her a river, Eridan.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villagers scurry to aid Nepeta and Felide, and Aranea has an interesting solution.

He settled Nepeta's malformed and bleeding body on the table that Illiaa had indicated, unable to help the way that he remained bent over her, so full of concern that it was palpable pain in his chest. His moirail was deathly still, her unnaturally heated skin cooled to an alarming degree. Olive and violet blood had mingled and smeared, though he could tell which shades of green belonged to Meulin, and which to Nepeta. He was going to ignore the violet completely, lest he go and take out some of his anxiety on a certain seadweller.

Illiaa, in her infinite kindness, did not request that he move, instead commandeering the other side of the table. As she shifted the girl's limbs and made quiet humming sounds to herself, Equius was struck yet again with the realization of just how _small_ his moirail was. Some of the humans were taller than her, something that didn't often happen with trolls. All of her ferocity and warmth had been sapped from her by her unconsciousness, and he felt like he was staring down at a face that he loved but couldn't recognize. 

Equius looked up briefly to figure out who it was that was breathing so harshly, only to realize that it was him. 

“I can see her _ribs_ ,” came a wobbly voice at Equius's side, and he didn't have to look down to know that it was Karkat. “Those are her bones. Just...right there. No skin, no muscles...” 

“If you're going to have an episode, Karkat, I might suggest that you leave,” Illiaa murmured, not ungently. “I will tend to you after I have sorted out your matesprit.” 

The troll heaved a ragged gasp and turned quickly on his heel, nearly ramming into Kanaya, who had trailed in just moments before. He seized the jadeblood's hand and hauled her out after him. 

He was right, though. Equius found himself staring at the gaping wound in Nepeta's side. It looked like some beast had just bitten a chunk out of her, everything that should have been there just...gone. 

“Jane is looking after Meulin and Felide,” Feferi announced as she came gliding in, her trident reclaimed. “Carcin is with them.” The princess flicked a glance around the rest of the room, taking in the people that had come to huddle around the unconscious Nepeta. Rose had claimed the arm chair in the corner, curled up silently. Illiaa and Equius were on either side of the table that Nepeta was laid on, and Aranea had made an appearance, sat primly on the window seat of Illiaa's clinic. 

“Rose, did you bring any of your poultices from your tent?” Illiaa asked, gently daubing at the edges of the wound with a wet cloth. Equius wasn't sure how much more olive he could look at without going mad. 

“Those and more,” the young woman replied, gesturing limply to what looked like some kind of purple velvet bag. “I've had some muscle restorative brewing the past week, given that I'd had a feeling it would be needed soon.” 

Equius didn't want to know any more about her sorcerous 'feelings'. He only cared if they worked in Nepeta's favor. 

Feferi was watching Aranea with barely concealed curiosity, but the older Serket sister was uncharacteristically tight lipped. Rose approached the table with her extravagant bag and began the laborious process of pulling things out of it, strange bottles and glass containers soon covering the side table that Feferi had scooted over to hold the water basin. 

“This is a drought to reduce fever,” she explained as she withdrew a pint-tinted vial from the bag and set it beside its fellows. “This is a paste to counteract venoms and poisons.” 

Apparently she was good for more than weather predictions and vague fortune telling. Equius had never known. 

Illiaa had finished cleaning the biggest wound and moved on to the next, pulling a clean cloth from the side table. Feferi leaned over the table, laying a confident hand on Nepeta's skin, seemingly unaffected by the fact that her pinkie finger was just a hair's breadth from touching a rib bone. “Don't interrupt me for anything while I'm working,” she commanded, and to his shame, Equius felt weak in the knees. 

\--- 

Aranea approached Rose when the former had withdrawn from the table, smiling when the blonde immediately rose an eyebrow. “I wanted to ask you about something that I've read,” she explained, tapping a manicured claw on the front of the book she was holding. “And I think it would be best if we were alone for this particular conversation.” 

Rose nodded and gestured to Aranea to lead the way, following the troll out of the room and quietly closing the door to the 'operating' room behind them. They stood now in Illiaa's office, mostly devoid of furniture as it was. What it did have was built in shelves full of books and bottles and bones, though Aranea had more important things to do at the moment than peruse Illiaa's belongings. 

“I've read that mertroll tears have restorative properties that can combat even the fiercest poisons,” she began, amused with the way Rose's eyebrows ticked up in interest. “The poison that the Makaras planted on Karkat's sickle was colorless and odorless. It had to be, for Karkat to not have noticed it, or Nepeta, who is constantly at his side. There are very few poisons with those characteristics, but all of them are deadly. The fact that Nepeta is still alive at this moment has to be due to her peculiar genetics, but we don't know how long that advantage will hold out. Felide's wounds aren't healing, either, though hers are not nearly as grave.” 

“You're suggesting that my remedies will not work this time.” Rose managed to make her question more of a statement of fact, though she didn't look like she took Aranea's assertion as a slight on her abilities. 

“That's exactly what I am suggesting. I do have an idea, though.” She tapped her book once again, and then with a sly smirk, asked, “Do we know any mertrolls?” 

She knew for a fact that they did. In a village as small as Skaia things simply could not be hidden – Aranea knew that Eridan was a mertroll, just as she knew that Jade was a werewolf, and Damara a witch. She'd also known that Gamzee and Kurloz had had forged visas, but hadn't bothered to do anything about it. She was beginning to regret that decision. 

“We do, in fact,” Rose said with an inkling of surprise, her eyes glinting. “I doubt he will take much persuading, since his kismesis is the one in peril.” 

“What a lovely thing to have to hang over her head,” Aranea nearly purred, pleased that her plan had been picked up with so little resistance. “The fact that only he had the power to save her and her family. “

“Kismessitude is such a mess,” Rose said with a sigh. 

 

\---- 

“I keep knitting the skin back together but it won't stay!” Feferi nearly screamed with frustration, fingers clenched into fists. “None of the poultices are working! And she STILL hasn't woken up! Illiaa, what is _going on_? I've _never_ been unable to heal someone!” 

The princess's face was flushed with tyrian, and irritated tears welled at the edges of her eyes. Nepeta still lay there like some kind of breathing corpse, and while the gaping hole in her side had been repaired thanks to Feferi's skill, the topmost layer of skin and muscle refused to stay healed, bubbling and hissing away as if splashed with acid. Wherever she'd been slashed with that damned sickle just looked like it was rotting away despite all of Feferi's efforts, and she was going to push herself into a coma if she kept trying to heal through it. 

“It's not your fault, Fef,” came the voice she probably least expected to hear at the moment, and she glanced up at her moirail, wondering when he'd even come in. How long had he been there? What was he even doing here? She opened her mouth to let all of her questions spill out, but he just pressed a finger to her lips, smirking when she puffed out her cheeks in aggravation. 

“I've gotta do something,” he murmured to her, taking her gently by the elbow and pulling her away from the table side. “There's a lot that I haven't told you, and I fully expect to get a gillfull for it later, but there isn't a lot of time. Just know that I had my reasons for keeping a very important secret, and you can tell me how terrible of a palemate I am after I've saved my embarrassment of a kismesis.” 

Feferi glared up at him, eyes squinting in suspicion. “Keeping secrets from royalty is treason,” she muttered half-heartedly, “And for that you are the _worst_ moirail ever.” 

She was tempted to whallop him with her trident, only to realize that her precious weapon (and status symbol) had been broken beyond recognition. With another angry wail, Feferi flung herself down into the vacated arm chair, not bothering to wonder where Rose had disappeared off to. 

Eridan sighed gustily and turned to the table, peering down at Nepeta with a complicated expression. Illiaa looked on with silent curiosity, having withdrawn to the side of the room to let Feferi work in peace. Equius had long since left, unable to deal with his moirail's rotting wounds without wanting to be sick. 

Feferi watched poutily as her moirail took the water basin from the side table and placed it on the floor, snorting as he removed his shoes and stepped barefoot into it, standing in the ankle-deep water. Eridan bent over Nepeta, his hands coming up to frame her face, trailing down her neck and roving over her shoulders, passing her chest and coming to lay delicately against her sides. He breathed deeply and rested his forehead against the werecat's before he shuddered, his fins fluttering wildly. 

Eridan ignored everyone else in the room completely, focusing on Nepeta and on the wild magic he felt stirring in his chest. The water in the basin sloshed and frothed of its own accord, though none of it spilled. He heard Feferi's confused murmur and Illiaa's surprised gasp, and just concentrated harder, reaching out to the savage witchcraft that had changed him.

Memories bubbled up to the fore of his mind, and he didn't even try to force them away, just breathing and leaning against Nepeta, gritting his teeth against the phantom knife that twisted in his chest, an echo of the original pain. If he opened his eyes he'd see the bone-handled knife that had been used to stab him. He relived the ceremony over again, the face of the mertroll witch that had stolen him hovering in his vision like a ghost. 

Magic washed over him unpleasantly, feeling like trailing claws. He was wracked with a sob, and a gasp, and as the first hot trail of tears started on his cheeks he shifted so that they could drop onto the skin of Nepeta's belly. Each tear landed with a soft hiss, steam rising from the impact. 

Nepeta seized with a sickening kind of howl as tear after tear dripped onto her skin, wetting the wounds and forcibly knitting her skin back together, chasing away the poison. Eridan was careful to rub the gathered tears across her torso and sides, making sure to coat each wound, vision bleary. 

He wanted to snarl at Illiaa when the older troll tipped a vial to his cheek to collect some of the still free-flowing tears, but he held still, knowing they'd be used for Felide. 

Moments ticked by until the sound of churning water finally subsided and the singing pain in his chest lifted, and Eridan hauled himself away from the table, taking the handkerchief Illiaa handed him with a terrible kind of self-conscious laugh. 

“Fef,” he groaned, and felt an enormous amount of relief when his moirail pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in his chest. Her ridiculous hair was in his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care, nuzzling his nose into it. He stepped out of the water basin and sagged weak-kneed against his princess, knowing she was more than strong enough to bear his weight. 

“We are going to have a talk, right _now_ ,” Feferi hissed into his chest. “Because that scared the fuck out of me and I never want to let you out of my sight ever again.” 

“Of course,” he murmured, allowing himself to be led from the room. 

\--- 

Shapes moved restlessly in the bleariness, seeming to dance along to the low murmur of noise that buzzed in her ears. She felt her fingers twitching, and that kind of hurt, but not enough to be more than a pest. Her skin felt like it was sizzling and raw, which was a much bigger problem. Being burned alive was probably never intended to be a pleasant way to go, and she was kind of annoyed that she was dying. It had been in battle, yes, but with her _sister_ , which just seemed wrong on a level that she couldn't fathom. At least she'd been protecting her friend, and she hoped that Feferi was alright. 

Nepeta wondered if Equius was still holding her. That was really the last thing that she could remember. It felt like she was flat on her back, though, which meant that he probably wasn't. Some of the fuzziness of her vision was clearing, and she could make out her mother's face leaning over her, curtains and curtains of hair tumbling over her shoulders. 

“Momma, I'm itchy. And...on fire.” Nepeta whined with a wrinkle of her nose, wondering why Felide was crying. Oh, right. Because Nepeta was dying. 

Shit. 

She grumbled in protest when Felide gathered her up off of the table and pressed her into her chest, wrapping her legs around her mother's hips with a weak, “You'll catch on fire, too.” 

“I was already on fire, kitten,” Felide whispered, combing a hand through her daughter's hair. “It was put out. I know that you don't feel good, baby, but you're going to be alright.” 

Her ears wiggled, and after a moment spent trying to detach her face from her mother's bosom Nepeta glanced around the room she was in, not surprised to see that it was packed with people. Karkat was being bodily restrained by Equius, who seemed close to lurching forward himself. Princess Feferi was presiding over the mob with her hands on her hips and a huge smile on her lips, while Jane was supervising the passing out of what was apparently dinner. 

“Nepeta!” Karkat said hoarsely, and when she mewled Equius released him. The troll staggered forward and plastered himself to her back, effectively sandwiching her between him and her mother. Felide purred deeply, and the sound soothed something in Nepeta's brain that still hadn't quite felt right. 

“Guess I'm not dead,” she muttered, charmed when Karkat hiccuped quietly against the back of her neck, his tears hot on her skin. “Where's Meulin?” 

The gathered crowd stilled, and Felide's purring sputtered to a stop. 

“When everyone was focused on making sure you two were healed, Gamzee was able to overthrow his guards and escape with Kurloz and your sister,” Carcin spoke up, face drawn with worry. “We're not sure where they've gone, but we imagine they haven't gone across the ocean yet.” 

“Vriska and Epeira and John have already gone out on their fleetest ship just in case,” Feferi piped, her grin turning savage. “You can't run from the empire! We'll have them in chains for what they've done to your sister, Nepeta.” 

“Not to mention that they attempted to murder an heiress to the throne,” Eridan said smoothly, arms crossed over his chest. 

Equius was hovering behind her mother, and Nepeta frowned up at him, unsure if she should be pleased that her family was so concerned for her, or dismayed that her sister was missing and attempted murderers were on the loose. He reached forward and settled a hand on her head, scritching at the base of one of her horns. 

That was a problem for after she'd eaten and perhaps taken a nap. She still felt like her skin was raw and prickling, and Nepeta was a fighter, after all, not a planner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, that was a much longer break than I'd anticipated! Sorry guys D: It shouldn't happen again!


	18. Fugitives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta decides that revenge murder will solve all her problems, Dave gets maudlin in the safety of his mental monologue, and Meulin races headlong toward becoming a cultist.

Now that she'd had time to think about the events that had led to having to have new muscle and skin grown, Nepeta had decided that she was rather upset. Well, no. She was _furious_. Meulin would never have plotted the assassination of Feferi, let alone carve massive chunks out of her baby sister or attempt to slice her mother in half. 

A long talk with Karkat and Illiaa and Jane had exposed that Kurloz's talents with magic lay in the realm of mind control and mental manipulation. Apparently this was a family trait, stemming from the Grand Highblood and his mastery of the dark sorcery of chucklevoodoos, a kind of evil celebrated in the cult of the Mirthful Messiahs. 

Karkat had haltingly explained that his mind had been invaded, and when he'd tried to fight off the invasion he'd been paralyzed with an indescribable kind of pain. Jane theorized that Kurloz had intended to use Karkat and the poisoned sickle to take out Feferi from the shadows without his direct involvement, but hadn't reckoned that Karkat would have the strength of mind to rebel. 

“I had to drop my sickle,” Karkat murmured to them, “Because everything in my entire body, my entire mind, was telling me to murder Feferi with it. The voice in my head wanted her in thousands of pieces, wanted me to paint the walls with her blood and take her head as a trophy. It was fucking atrocious.” 

“It was all I could do to throw down my weapon,” he sighed, twining his fingers with Nepeta's. “When he realized I wasn't going to do it, the fuckmunch decided to punish me by making me feel like my brain was on fire.” 

Jane was nodding like that all made perfect sense, a fingertip pressed to her chin. Nepeta still didn't understand. 

“Why Meulin?” She demanded. “I thought she was his mate!” 

Illiaa gave her a sympathetic look, and Jane nibbled on her lower lip before responding. “I think he was probably manipulating her in some way all along. I mean, werecats are super strong and super fast, and have those healing abilities, right? Sounds like the perfect puppet to me, particularly if you're planning on assassinating royalty.” 

Nepeta shook her head fiercely. That just couldn't be right! “Mates don't _do_ that!” 

“Maybe mates or matesprits don't, but someone who is plotting to overthrow the empire might,” Jane countered. “What I'm saying is, perhaps he was only pretending to be her mate.” 

The idea that that was something you could pretend to be scared the everliving shit out of Nepeta. 

She curled against Karkat, wondering when the exact moment that her entire life had gone to hell had been. None of this would have happened to Meulin, to her _family_ , if they'd never left the safety of their tower. Sure, she had a mate and a moirail now, and a kismesis, but those things paled in comparison to her love for her sister. She was part of her pride, and had been there her entire life. The fact that she was missing now was nearly inconceivable – Nepeta had never gone more than a week without seeing her in all her years of being alive. 

“I'll kill him,” she whispered. “I'll kill both of them.” 

No one said anything to suggest she do otherwise. 

\---

It had taken some doing, but Dave had managed to convince Princess Fins to let him temporarily out of her service. Yeah, yeah, he was sworn, life and duty and blood and EMPIRE, but he couldn't let the fact that Gamzee had escaped with the other fugitives on his watch rest on his conscience. Latula hadn't taken it well either, but she'd holed herself up in her home with her matesprit and was coping through what was probably life affirming sex. His mind briefly wondered to how psionics could spice up the bedroom shenangians, but he quickly chastised himself back on track. 

Anyway, here he was. On a boat. Well, a ship, he guessed. Vriska would just as soon put a dagger in his back than let him call her precious 'Octet' a boat. He didn't even want to think about what Epeira would do. Bitch was eight levels of crazy. 

He tilted his chin upwards so that he could watch John, after all the years he'd known the guy still stunned by how masterfully he commanded his element. Not that he'd ever let his friend know that, of course. Couldn't give the guy too many compliments or he'd think he wasn't a waddling drooling dork. 

John wooshed back and forth between the main sail and where Epeira was stationed at the helm, riding the wind like a goddamn champion. Even though their mission was a grim one, he was still smiling, absolutely lost in the intricacies of his art. Maybe it was the innate whimsy that came with commanding _air_ , because John never seemed to experience the frustration or fury that came from handling fire, or the lethargy or irritating tendency toward mystery from those that dealt in water elementals. Dave had never met anyone that dealt with earth or any of the other sundry elements (honestly, if you could even call some of the more obscure ones that), but he figured it wasn't all smiles all the time. 

John always seemed happy. Sometimes, damnright whimsical, or jubilant. He danced on clouds or twirled in a tornado, dipped and dove and pirouetted, the wind laughing and singing along with him like a bosom friend. 

Sometimes, Dave felt like those moments stretched on even longer in time simply because he never wanted to stop watching them. Like each tick on the world's clock slowed just for him, for the sole reason that he wanted to see that exuberant smile just a little bit longer. 

Oh, hell, he was getting maudlin again. 

He noticed that John was swooping his way, so he carefully moved his head a fraction of an inch to the left, as if he'd been watching Vriska up in the crow's nest the entire time. The troll had a spyglass glued to her eye and she was sweeping back and forth with a vengeance, no doubt planning on ravaging the entire ocean in search of her prey. 

Serkets. 

John was hovering just above him now, legs kicking idly. A swish of his finger caused Dave's heavy cape to bellow and had it not been for his quick reflexes, it would have been upended over his head. 

“It's no surprise you're the heir apparent, what with your incredible levels of maturity,” he drawled, poker face carefully in place as John laughed at him. 

“Epeira said I can take a break for a bit, as we're pretty far out and we've had no signs of other ships about. I'm thinking they're still on land, hiding out somewhere.” The young man dropped the last two feet to the ground and landed with a quiet thump, dragging a hand through his messy hair. 

Dave 'hmph'd in response, resting a hand casually on the hilt of his sword at the thought of Kurloz and his crew. He had to wonder just how much of a victim that Meulin was in all of this – she'd fled readily enough once she'd come back to consciousness, Kurloz slung over her back and Gamzee in her wake. 

Ugh, Gamzee. He and Latula had severely underestimated the bullshit that chucklevoodoos could pull, and while Latula had been quaking in primal fear, Dave was lost in the throes of unfathomable sadness. Incapacitated, it was all they could do to just watch as the Makaras fled. Well, the Makaras and Meulin. 

John slunk over to his side and leaned against the ship's railing, peering out at the horizon. “The sun'll be setting soon,” he observed, somewhat obviously. The sky was painted in pinks and oranges, the sun doing its best to sneak away for the night. 

“This would be a pretty romantic set up for a date!” John suddenly spouted, grinning down at Dave. Damn those extra three inches. “We're on a ship out on the ocean and the sun's setting! The weather is beautiful and we're all aloooooooone~.” 

Vriska's cackle from the crow's nest just served to remind Dave that no, they were not. 

“Thinking about dragging some unfortunate girl out here, Egbert?” He kicked idly at his friend's ankle, snorting at the offended yelp that got him. 

John seemed put out at that, but he quickly bounced back, his buck-toothed smile back on his face almost immediately. Man, when was John ever not smiling. Crazy little doofus. Oh, Gods, his heart hurt. 

“Whatever, Dave! Like Epeira would let somebody on her ship just for a date!” He scrambled up on to the railing and executed a few spirited flips that had Dave's heart hammering in his throat, even though he knew perfectly well that the wind would catch him before he dropped so much as a foot. 

“Guess I got her all wrong, then,” Dave sighed, flipping his hair out of his face. “I thought she was getting sweet on me when she let me come along. Damn.” 

“She would never!” John squawked, and wow, that was actually kind of insulting. Serket Senior was as beautiful as she was shithive maggots crazy, and Dave had to admit that there was some kind of appeal to her dangerous. 

“Wow, rude,” he huffed, which made John laugh. “I'd like to think I'm prime material over here. Unsoiled and unwed, but a pure virgin maiden waiting for my first love.” 

“Somebody say virgin?” Vriska quipped as she shimmied her way down from the crow's nest, sliding her way down a rope with a kind of ease that made Dave think that perhaps _she_ was in on the wind handling, too. 

“I could fancy me a night in bed with a pure maiden,” the troll crooned, tipping a claw under Dave's chin with a smirk. “Doesn't that sound niiiiiiiice?” 

He met her eyes with a perfectly blank expression, making sure he had her full attention before slowly arching one eyebrow. “Sounds shit, actually. I think you'd eat me as soon as you'd fuck me.” 

John's cries of “Vriska! Dave! Be NICE!” were nearly drowned out by Vriska's raucous laughter. 

“I like him, John. Bring him around more often, it gets boring on this ship with just you and mom.” She swaggered away with a wave over her shoulder, and Dave watched her go, wondering if sinfully perfect rear ends ran in the family genes. 

“Ugh, I told her not to hit on you,” John muttered, slouching against the railing once more. “Sometimes she just toys with people when she gets bored, and a lot of the time she gets mean. We're working on it.” 

“Just use the ol' Egbert charm on her. Conquering crazy broads seems to be a family specialty with you.” Dave wrinkled his nose as he thought about John's father and Her Imperial Condescension, happily in sparkling diamonds with one another. Shit was actually kind of scary. Before that whole thing had been cemented, Dave's eldest brother had been around for pre-HIP Queenie, who was apparently some kind of bejeweled tyrian menace. Not that she wasn't anymore, but she was just on a tight leash now. He tried to imagine all of Feferi's energy and passion mixed with Meenah's love of plotting and zest for imaginative punishment and found that he was very glad John's father was on the scene now. 

“Well, it's useless if it doesn't work on the people you want it to,” John grumped, still apparently pouting. Dave absolutely refused to look any further than surface value into that statement, instead opting for telling himself that he _wasn't_ breathless from watching John stare out at the ocean, the brilliant sunset some kind of surreal backdrop. He could pretend that he wasn't in love with his best friend. Dave was very skilled at lying to himself. 

\---

“You sure they won't all be getting it up in their thinkpans to look for us there?” Gamzee asked, peering at her with concern. Meulin shook her head, adjusting Kurloz from where he was slung across her shoulders. Her matesprit was not a heavy burden to carry, but he was very bony. She'd need to hunt meat for them all very soon, loathe as she was to leave him for any amount of time. 

“No, because it would be the obvious choice, and they think I'm smart enough to go somewhere else.” Meulin stared up at the tree canopy, the bright slashes of sunlight that shone through dappling on the ground they were trodding over. “So that's exactly why we're headed there. Besides, it's safe. Kurloz can recuperate and we can come up with a plan.” 

She also ached to see her childhood home again. It was a pain and an inconvenience to be constantly covering their tracks and hiding their scents, but Meulin was desperate to not be followed. They had swam most of the way so far, or waded in creeks, even though it was likely to make Gamzee catch cold. Her only concern was for Kurloz, who so far had been silent, probably in too much pain to articulate anything. 

That horrible brute had smashed in his ribs. Meulin had only been able to take on so much of his pain, using their mate bond to leech it from him, but that was all that she could do. She could not mend the fractures for him, only dull the hurt enough to be bearable. 

Oh, her poor darling Kurloz. She was going to slaughter that sweaty neanderthal for his crime. 

Gamzee was nodding dopily, sloshing along in the river behind her, the water only up to his thighs. He was so ridiculously tall, but Meulin had been told that his father, the Grand Highblood, was even taller, with gloriously long spiraled horns. One day Kurloz would be just like him, his father's descendent in every conceivable way. And she'd be by his side, his most faithful follower and most loving mate. 

She could run even faster, but Gamzee would never be able to keep up, and she worried that if he got lost she'd never find him again, because he was very skilled at getting himself distracted and turned about. For a while there after she'd given him his sopor capsule for the day she'd had to hold his hand and guide him along, he'd been so lost to the drug's effect. Kurloz had purposefully not given Gamzee his medicine the day before so that he'd be stark sober and capable of unleashing his voodoos, and her mate's careful planning had came through in the end. 

Even though that disgraceful excuse for a troll had somehow managed to fight off Kurloz's mental shackles, and the princess still lived. But those were just setbacks – they were all three alive and free, and would have plenty more chances to fulfill the mission that Kurloz's father had given him. The Messiahs wanted Kurloz to bring them back to prominence in the empire, and the most efficient way to do that would be to root out the opposition in the existing royalty. Princess Feferi was starkly against the raptures and joys of the Dark Carnival, but Heiress Meenah could be brought around with the appropriate bribes and offerings. Tiamat would be brought back to her senses once that horrid human 'monarch' was disposed of, and her grief over her dead daughter and palemate would surely have the queen willing to pick up her abandoned moirallegience with Fossor. 

Meulin was sure that the Messiahs had appeared to her in a dream, their glory bathing her in flashing colorful lights. It was her duty and destiny to accompany Kurloz and be a dutiful mate, slaying his enemies and buoying him forward to his ultimate goals. She'd be an attentive friend to Gamzee as well, making sure that he was kept calm when needed, and to be the ultimate gatekeeper of his Rage. And if being charged to be someone's moirail by the Messiahs was not a good enough reason to take on a palemate, Meulin would never hear one. She didn't feel particularly pale for the troll, but surely the Messiahs had their reasons, and it was not her place to doubt them.

Plus, it pleased Kurloz. 

By nightfall their breakneck pace would have the tower in sight on the horizon. Meulin couldn't wait to show her family their new temporary home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Meulin. 
> 
> As always, you can hit me up on my tumblr, http://ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit.tumblr.com/ :D I post there when I update! Ask me worldbuilding questions! :D Give me your opinions! :D


	19. Talking talking talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy gets to the bottom of Dirk's issue of the day, and Feferi presides over a heated town meeting.

“It sure seems like everybody is shackin' up pale lately,” Roxy mused, stretching out her leg in order to prod at Dirk with her toe. “I wonder if it's because of all the emotional shit going on.” 

“An astute observation, Ms. Lalonde,” he murmured, too busy tinkering with one of his funny little metal machines to actually look up when he spoke to her. 

“You've got Nep and Big Blue, which is adorable, and then Karkles and Kanaynay finally tied the diamond knot. John and Vris are practically spelled in the stars.” She ticked off the pairings on her fingers, shifting sideways on the couch she was sprawled on. The living room in she and Dirk's not-quite-finished home was on the smaller side, but that never bothered her. She had exactly zero personal space boundaries. Zip. Nada. 

“Princess Cutiepie and Fins McStudly have been hitched up pale for a long time, I guess,” Roxy continued, wondering how many ridiculous nicknames she was going to have to trot out before she got Dirk to smile even a little. “Probably ever since they were hatched in their gold-plated aquariums or whatever. Do you think Feferi was born in a giant clam shell?” 

“No, I don't think she was,” Dirk said tonelessly, sighing when a bit of thin wire he'd been fiddling with snapped between his fingers. “For shame,” Roxy lamented, rolling over onto her stomach and prodding Dirk in the ribs. “Queenie had an opportunity for a badass mermaid daughter and she didn't take it.” He scooted out of her reach. “Dirky baby why are you doin' this to me. You're gunna break my heart.” 

He finally looked up at her, giving her an exasperated stare over the top of his shades. “You're doing that thing where you're high maintenance again, Roxy,” he grumbled, and she huffed. “Little ol' me? As if!” She was the easiest and most accommodating moirail _ever_ , and it was Dirk who was the one being all broody. She had even foregone pulling out her ever-present bottle of _booze du jour_ , simply because she knew he was in a bad mood. 

“Diiiiiiiiirk,” she sing-songed, refusing to let him go back to ignoring her. Dirk was terrible about internalizing all his feelings and brooding over them like some kind of testy momma vulturebeast, plucking at the carrion of his poor abused emotional sensitivity. Her Dirk was _fragile_ , poor baby. 

He grunted at her and turned his back, swearing as a delicate gear snagged and then fractured. He dropped the thing on the floor and pressed a fist to his forehead, back stiffening.   
Roxy oozed off of the couch and wriggled until she had herself wrapped around her palemate, planting herself rather firmly in his lap and pulling his shades off of his face. “Tell momma Rox about your problems, baby,” she crooned, pecking him on the bridge of his nose for good measure. Dirk was absolutely still, but he hadn't protested the removing of his precious shades, so Roxy took that as a sign that he was cracking. 

Of course he was. Roxy was simply the _best_. No man, mortal or otherwise, could withstand her charms. Not even Striders. Especially not Striders. 

He murmured something so quietly that she couldn't catch it, so she hummed, carding her fingers through his ridiculous hair. He'd repeat himself eventually – Dirk hated feeling like he hadn't been heard when he felt like speaking. 

“Jake left today,” he said finally, and Roxy nodded, working on wrapping her scarf's trailing end around his shoulders. “For the jungle search team, yeah,” she said when it seemed like he wasn't going to elaborate. “Jade and Aradia went, too, as well as Nepeta and Sollux.” 

“I don't like that he spends so much time with her,” Dirk grumbled, and knowing she was poking an angry bear, Roxy queried, “Jade? She's his cousin.” 

That got a grunt out of Dirk, and Roxy considered that a victory. She continued. “And Nepeta's taken in both of the sexytimes quadrants, soooooooo I'm going to assume Aradia's the one you've got the problem with here.” 

He nodded stiffly, and Roxy sighed. “You know as well as I do that he considers her a 'fantastic chum', Dirk.” 

The young man let out a disgusted sounding snort, finally planting his face in Roxy's shoulder. “He considers everyone and their grandmother a 'fantastic chum'. It's like he doesn't even know how to have interactions with people if they aren't strictly friendly or based around fisticuffs. I have known the idiot for _years_ , Rox, and he views me in no higher regard than someone he met on the street two days ago.” 

“That's not true,” Roxy cooed, trailing her fingernails up and down Dirk's back soothingly. “You're his best friend.” Perhaps that had been a poor choice of words, because Dirk gave a full body twitch and groaned pitifully. “He trusts you more than anybody else on this planet, Dirk, and never wants to go adventuring unless you're there with him.” 

Inspiration struck suddenly, and she blinked, impressed with herself. “Are you upset because he didn't ask you to come along on the jungle search team and asked Aradia instead?” 

His conspicuous silence gave her all the answer she needed, and she clucked her tongue at him. “Diiiirk. That's kind of her _job_. Plus her palebuddy is going too and you know they're always crazy wrapped up in each other. That's the reddest tinged pale I've ever seen, by the way.” 

He seemed to cling to that, finally bringing his arms up to wrap them loosely around Roxy's waist. “They're the only diamond pair I know that full on kiss on the mouth, soooooo. Something's going on there and I'm gunna guess tentacle dicks.” 

Dirk full on laughed at that, startled out of his funk by the lewdness. Roxy grinned at him when he pulled away from her shoulder, orange eyes bleary but looking relieved. “You're fantastic, Roxy,” he said quietly, and she hummed, pleased. “Damn right I am.” 

“Still high maintenance, though.” 

\----

Carcin gazed softly at Princess Feferi, wondering if perhaps Tiamat had found some way to just clone herself directly. Her youngest daughter was some kind of carbon copy of her, from the tips of her wild, tumultuous hair down to her jewel-kissed toes. He supposed musing about the Queen's reproductive tendencies probably wasn't appropriate in a meeting about the state of the empire and a potential coup, but his mind kept wandering, not wanting to focus on the topic at hand. 

That being his matesprit's daughter and her involvement in a plot to assassinate a member of the royal family. 

It was more or less agreed upon unanimously that Meulin was a willing participant to some degree, though Felide seemed to be clinging to the idea that the girl was simply being mind controlled at all times. He understood her reluctance – her daughters were everything in the world to her, and she'd nearly lost one at the hands of the other. 

She hadn't said much in the meeting so far, leaning despondently into his side and watching the proceedings with dull eyes. Feferi had done much of the talking, though Jane would cut in every once in a while, a voice of reason in a storm of flying accusations. 

Illiaa had been largely quiet as well, looking contemplative. Meguri had piped up to ask who would be accompanying the princess back to Alternia to bring word to the Queen, and no one had been able to agree. Eridan had pulled rank as one of Feferi's quadrantmates, but Stitia just as quickly pulled rank as an actual member of royal law enforcement. Latula seemed to think that she needed to take Dave's place as a personal guard. 

The squabbling was beginning to wear on his patience. 

“I will go with the princess,” Carcin announced, somewhat surprised as always when the room immediately quieted when he spoke, no matter how softly. “It is due time for me to return to Alternia anyway.” 

“ _Carcin_ ,” Illiaa gasped, raising from her seat and taking a few steps toward him. Felide stirred from her fugue when the mood in the room dramatically shifted, her ears slitting backward and a quiet hiss breaking from behind her fangs. Illiaa ignored her. “Carcin, you can't. There's a reason you came here in the first place.” 

Karkat nodded emphatically, standing from his chair as well. “You can't go gallivanting off back across the ocean where someone attempted to _murder_ you just because someone tried to murder _the princess_ here!” He glanced at Feferi for a moment, who didn't seem offended. 

“Someone attempted to kill Carcin?” Felide rasped, her grip on his hand tightening. “What madness is your society infected with?” 

Stitia blustered and Terezi cackled, and Carcin grasped his matesprit's hands in his own in order to calm her. “It's true, love. While I may not seem it here, back in Alternia I am a high profile religious figure for the Empire's chosen church. I am the head of a lot of progressive reform within the Empire, and there are those who would rather I were not around to see through on my ideals.” 

Felide blinked at him with her large eyes, worry drawn in every line and crease in her face. “More assassination?” She asked quietly, like the very thought sickened her. Carcin nodded, and added, “And not the first attempt, unfortunately. Karkat thought I might be safer here until the culprits were apprehended, and the Queen agreed.” 

“But recent events have proved that nowhere is truly safe, so it is important for me to be where I am needed.” Carcin smoothed his thumbs over Felide's knuckles, silently willing her to understand. She was such an intelligent troll, much more in command of her instincts than either of her daughters, but was still often stubborn. Particularly when it came to him. 

“Why doesn't Felide come, too?” Feferi offered. “After all, having a supernaturally strong werecat as a personal bodyguard sounds rather appealing after being attacked by one not too long ago.” 

“And separate Nepeta from her sister _and_ her mother?” Porrim protested, Equius nodding along with her. “Is that not cruel?” 

“The safety of the princess is of the highest importance!” Eridan snapped, going violet in the face. “Whoever she chooses to guard her will accept it as an honor!” 

“Nepeta is an adult even if she rarely acts like one,” Aranea said primly, ignoring the murderous look Porrim shot her. “I am sure she could handle the separation maturely if given the opportunity.” 

“Is no one going to ask Felide's opinion on this? She's already lost one daughter to a maniac, maybe she doesn't _want_ to leave her second one!” 

Felide's snarl cut through the dialogue cleanly, the room going quiet in shock. “Meulin is not _lost_ ,” she rumbled, eyes slitted in fury. “I refuse to believe that. She is my daughter and she may have made her choices, but she will always come back to family.” 

Carcin pressed Felide further into his side, watching as Feferi adopted her 'thinking face'. She opened her mouth to deliver her verdict, but wasn't given the chance. “Where Carcin goes, so do I. Whoever tried to murder him there may have come here to try to kill others. I will find them, and end them, and end the threat to my daughters as well.” 

Felide spoke with such snapping finality that it was hard to even look her in the eyes, several trolls and humans in the room bowing their heads or averting their gaze. “Besides,” the woman continued, drawing herself up to sit up straight, shoulders squared. “This jungle is my territory. Crimes committed here are mine to punish.” 

Stitia looked like she very much disagreed with that, but couldn't find herself to speak against justice being rightfully delivered. 

“Well, that solves that!” Feferi chirped, only to sigh gustily when Nepeta burst through the door, looking livid. The princess tossed her arms in the air in exasperation and leaned against the podium, chin on her hand. 

“Weren't you with the jungle search team?” Karkat asked, reaching out for his matesprit. She ignored him, advancing on Feferi. Aradia trailed in not too long after, Sollux on her heels. 

“We didn't find anything in the perimeter we were given to search,” Aradia explained, then gestured toward Nepeta. “We were on our way back and had just gotten to the main gate when she said she could hear the discussion you were having and took off. Apparently something that was said upset her.” 

“Jade and Jake stayed back with the equipment cart,” Sollux drawled, still hovering, too lazy to walk like a normal troll. 

“I'm coming with you,” Nepeta announced, prompting a frustrated groan from Karkat. “You can't make me stay here if Felide is leaving. I refuse.” 

For her part, Felide looked rather smug, her quiet purring audible only to Carcin. He wondered if she'd spoken so loudly on purpose, being able to scent how close her daughter was drawing back to the village. 

“The whole fucking village can't leave!” Karkat squawked, “This is ridiculous!” 

In the end, Jane decided to put together an honor guard in order to accompany Feferi and Carcin back over the sea to Alternia. Felide, Karkat and Stitia would make up Carcin's personal guard, while Nepeta, Eridan and Equius would serve as Feferi's. Dave would join them once he returned. 

Jane and John would remain in Skaia to ensure that the remaining villagers would feel like there was an appropriate authoritative presence, and Karkat placed Sollux and Latula in charge of the village's defenses for the duration of his absence. Rose would be responsible for keeping up correspondence between Skaia and Alternia through letters or psionically transported messages, which would be passed between Sollux and his father, who resided permanently in the Empire. 

Feferi seemed pleased with the arrangements, giving Equius an appraising look. Jane's choice had surprised her, but she'd heard rumors of the blueblood's incredible strength and fortitude. She was looking forward to witnessing it for herself. 

Felide had drawn her daughter to her, nuzzling Nepeta's cheeks and jaw in order to calm the girl, who had apparently worked herself up into a froth at the idea of being left behind in Skaia when her mother went abroad. Being separated from Meulin was already bad enough. She wouldn't be able to handle Felide being absent, too. 

“We'll leave once Epeira makes it back,” Feferi announced. “That gives ample time to prepare for the voyage. It's not exactly a short one.” 

Belatedly, both werecats realized that they'd be spending at least a week on the open sea, and as one, paled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onward to adventuuuuuureeeee!


	20. Seasick, Lovesick?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day three aboard the _Octet_ , and Nepeta still hasn't been able to earn her sealegs.

Nepeta groaned, hanging limply over the ship's rail. The endless rolling and roiling of the sea wreaked havoc on her stomach, reducing her to a whimpering mess for most the day, day upon day upon day. She was sure that Eridan was over the moon with the development, but she couldn't even muster enough animosity to care, too busy emptying her guts into the ocean. 

Carcin would pat her delicately on the shoulder whenever he passed her, and sometimes Felide would pause in her militant stalking of the deck to rub her back soothingly. The only real respite she got was when John took pity on her and commanded the winds to hold her above deck, blessedly still and steady. 

Today was the third day of their week long journey, and Feferi had nearly promised her that the sea sickness would abate by the fifth. She just had to get her sea legs, that was all! Nepeta hadn't been sure if it was the ocean or the princess's optimism that made her more nauseous. 

Equius stayed with her most of the time, a sturdy wall of troll to lean against. He was her favorite, forever, she'd decided, resting her sweaty forehead against what she thought was probably the side of his stomach. She was sore and sick and tired and endlessly thankful for his presence and patience. Best moirail. 

“The princess assures me the illness will pass,” he said for probably the sixtieth time. “So does Ms. Serket.” 

“Which one?” Nepeta mumbled, deciding that it probably didn't matter. 

“The youngest, Vriska.” 

“Mmrf.” It was the best response she could muster. They'd better be right. This was awful. 

\---

Feferi drummed her claws on the tabletop, frowning at Stitia and Carcin. It was unfair, really, to be the _princess_ , daughter of the Queen, and still feel like she was perhaps not the most important troll in the room. 

Carcin had spent nearly the whole of his life forging the path for a revolutionary new religion, campaigning for change and good in the Empire. He spoke out with boldness against the rigidity of the hemocaste, rejected the well established practice of the culling caverns, and brought to light issues with the mother grub and the brooding caverns, primarily the use of drones. 

When the warring with the humans had finally ended early on in Meenah's life, before Feferi had even been hatched, the use of drones to collect genetic material had mostly fallen by the way side, as human/troll relationships were incapable of providing the necessary filled pails. Too many cases of human/troll pairs being culled by drones for the absence of material had finally prompted Tiamat to severely limit their uses. 

Now they were mostly palace guards or stationed in the brooding caverns to watch over the jade caste and the emerging wigglers. 

Carcin had been recognized by Tiamat, mostly because of his nearly rabid following. He built his church from the ground up, using equality and love and compassion as his foundation. Stitia had been instrumental in the early days, rising to fame in the court system for her ruthless persecution of caste-crimes. She had championed new legislation dealing with troll/human relations as well as hemocaste injustices, ushering in a new era of equality for trolls of every shade. 

Meenah often teased Feferi for being soft-hearted, saying that she'd been hatched into a time when things were gentle and no longer the blood-soaked dystopia that Meenah had been expecting to flourish in and eventually inherit. And she had largely the two adult trolls in front of her to thank for that. She did, really, as she much favored her existing reality over the one that Meenah (and sometimes Tiamat) thought back to fondly. Joel had dandled her on his knee when she'd been a wiggler, and she looked at the man as a kind of father-figure, which she knew was largely a human social construct, as was the idea of a 'King'. 

“Tiamat is likely to call for blood,” Carcin murmured, looking unhappy with the prospect. Stitia shrugged, seeming to not be bothered. “As long as they're brought before His Tyranny first, I don't much care what she does with them.” 

“The trial would be a farce,” he countered. “We both know that she's going to have them culled. If word gets out that an assassination attempt on the princess wasn't punished with some kind of cruel and unusual death, there could be chaos. There are enough dissenters that are unhappy with the way Tiamat and Joel are ruling that there could be an uprising.” 

“They're mostly unhappy with Joel,” Stitia said primly. “Trolls think he's soft and useless and humans think he isn't doing enough to champion them.” 

“But he does so much!” Feferi interjected, slamming her hand on the table. “He does as much as he can!” 

Carcin smiled at her softly, but Stitia's wry smirk was somewhat condescending. “But it isn't much, is it? Your mother and her counselors still hold the majority of the power, for all that it's supposed to be an equal split. Some traditions just don't die out so easily, it would seem.” 

Feferi hissed, disliking the teal's tone. Her mother and His Imperial Patriarch were _moirails_. They'd never allow their relationship, royal or otherise, to be unequal! That's why Joel had been chosen in the first place! 

“Some would say that Joel is overly influenced by his own counselors,” Carcin said quietly, drawing Stitia's attention away from baiting Feferi. The troll frowned, adjusting her pointy glasses, but didn't seem to have an answer for that. 

“Sounds like nobody is ever happy,” Feferi grumbled. Ruling over her kingdom some day in the future had always sounded exciting and fun, but when it got down into politics and laws like this it just bored and frustrated her. Maybe she should be thankful that Meenah was slated to inherit. 

Deciding to leave Carcin and Stitia to their debate, Feferi got up and swept out of the cabin in a clinking of jewelry and swirl of pastel fabric. Equius was up at the bow, staring out into the sea as his hair whipped about, freed from his usual ponytail. He cut a lovely figure of masculinity, his thick arms locked formally behind his back, powerful legs shoulder-width apart. Her eyes tracked the swell of his musculature, paused somewhere along the vicinity of his fantastic rear end, took the time to wonder what he'd look like under all the layers he wore. 

Who had time for wondering about hearings and uprisings when there were beautiful trolls to ogle? Certainly not Feferi. 

 

She danced her way over to him, tipping her chin up (and up, and up!) in order to be able to look at his face. His eyes quickly swerved back to in front of him, reluctant to make eye contact with her. She huffed, leaning on the railing and relishing the feel of sea spray on her face. “Where's Nepeta?” It seemed like a good question to lead with – Equius really only stopped stuttering and opened up when it concerned his moirail. It was adorable, really. 

“She was feeling well enough to go torment Mr. Ampora,” he replied, fingers drumming awkwardly on the railing. “I am thankful that she seems to have recovered, but am not looking forward to the undue amount of noise that is bound to happen.” 

Well, wasn't that the politest way to word it. She liked that about Equius – for all appearances he was a hulking brute, but he had an air of gentility about him that reminded her of some of the court officials back home. He would probably blend in quite well, allllmoooost making up for the ruckus that Nepeta was sure to cause. 

“Are you looking forward to seeing your father?” Feferi asked after another moment of awkward silence, fighting to keep her broad smirk off of her face. It was a horrible amount of fun to prod at him when he was so obviously uncomfortable. The way he looked at her seemed a strange hybrid of smitten and utterly reverent, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to kneel and kiss her feet because she was royalty or because he was overcome with flush temptations. 

Either way suited her, really. 

“It would be...good...to visit him,” Equius eventually responded, trying not to seem too eager. “I am sure that he has drawn up several more building plans for Skaia. His blueprints are truly fantastic.” 

“I didn't know that the Architect himself was responsible for the village layout. That's impressive.” Feferi figured that flattery could get you everywhere, and it seemed true in this case, if the deep blue flush that was spreading over Equius's cheeks was any proof. Hehehe. 

“Yes, well,” the tall troll coughed, straightening his spine and clearing his throat. “He is an impressive troll. I am proud to be his descendant.” 

“I'm sure he's proud to have such a stunning example of his legacy,” Feferi schmoozed, gratified by the tremor that shook Equius's shoulders. 

“You're much too kind, Princess,” he managed, backing away from the railing (and her) and making a dignified retreat toward the cabin. “If you'll excuse me, I am going to go look after my moirail.” Feferi was tempted to tell him that he _wasn't_ excused, he'd better get his big blue buttocks right back over here, but she waved him away instead, smiling sweetly. 

When he was gone, she slumped against the railing, idly braiding a few random sections of her hair. Perhaps she'd found a new distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feferi you shoal are something else.


	21. Jewel Encrusted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After too many days on a ship crossing the ocean, Nepeta and company arrive in Alternia, the capital of the Empire. There's much hubbub about the inevitable meeting with the Queen and King.

Karkat watched him out of the corner of his eye, wondering how someone could be so fussy. Eridan was meticulous in every sense of the word, from the way that every individual strain of his hair seemed to flow in exactly the same way, guided by some invisible hand dedicated to perfect coiffure. The other troll's high collared shirt was cut and tailored to fit, but even though most of Eridan's throat and neck were covered Karkat could see still the angry bite marks that littered the skin. 

He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Sure, sure, he himself had a kismesis, but he took certain pains to make sure that Terezi and Nepeta were rarely keeping company. He felt like he split his time as fairly and evenly as possible to ensure that neither of them felt like their quadrants were being neglected, and he liked to think that he put as much energy into one as the other. 

But apparently being out at sea made Nepeta particularly restless and fierce, and Eridan had been bearing the brunt of her bad attitude. She'd often stumble into Karkat's sleeping cabin at night, bruised and bloodied and exhausted after an encounter with her pitchmate, only managing to mumble a 'night, Karkitty' before she was out like a light. 

She usually woke before he did in the morning and was gone by the time he could drag himself out of bed. He didn't want to complain, really – he knew that Nepeta tended to spend the mornings with her mother and moirail, trying to calm herself and conquer her hatred of the open sea. 

Karkat scowled as Eridan somehow managed to make taking a bite of fruit look like an entire production, popping the bite into his mouth with a ridiculous flourish. He'd never really had to spend much time with the other troll before – Eridan typically kept to himself or the lighthouse if Feferi wasn't around, though he'd heard that he and Roxy had grown close.

“Something bothering you, Kar?” Eridan asked, arching one eyebrow in his direction, fork poised to pluck another piece of fruit from the plate in front of them. Karkat wrinkled his nose and shook his head, forcing himself to look away and try to find something else to focus on. Sitting and stewing about how your matesprit was paying more attention to _all of her other quadrants_ wasn't going to make him feel any better. 

“If you say so,” was the response he got, which only made his hands curl into fists beneath the table. Apparently his grumpy silence wasn't going to deter Eridan from talking, even though he'd more or less been hoping that it would. 

“I wonder how long Fef'll want to stay in the capital,” Eridan mused aloud. “The Queen might not want her there if there's political turmoil.” 

“Meenah's there,” Karkat pointed out, drawn into the conversation despite himself. 

“Yeah, well, she's the Heiress. Tiamat'll want to keep her close to see how she reacts to things like attempted coups.” 

“Feferi doesn't need to know how to deal with things like that?” 

Eridan shook his head, waving one hand as if he was physically brushing the question away. “Feferi is a princess, but she isn't likely to inherit the throne. The Queen has _some_ kind of plans for her, but since they aren't succession, she'd rather stash Fef away somewhere safe and guarded than risk her safety just to try to teach her some lessons about ruling.” 

“Last I heard she was trying to convince her to take up a role as a priestess in the Signless's church,” Eridan divulged, watching him carefully for his reaction. 

Karkat shrugged. He was technically a part of his father's clergy, in a roundabout way. If you could consider a corps of warriors (knights, really) clergy. He was supposed to enforce the ideologies of caste equality and cross-species understanding, but he found that he spent most of his time with the other knights on training drills. 

Obviously disappointed that his gossip hadn't elicited the kind of reaction that he wanted, Eridan huffed and pushed his chair back from the table, getting to his feet with a dramatic flair of his cape. “Epeira tells me that we should make port some time later today. As much as I love the sea, it will be nice to be back in the Capital.” 

That, at least, was good news. Perhaps Nepeta would finally settle the fuck down once she was back on land. Highly populated land, but... 

Well, maybe Nepeta wouldn't settle the fuck down. Too many new sights and smells would probably send her into overdrive. Karkat grunted and nodded at Eridan as he glided out of the room, wondering when he'd get his matesprit back. 

\---

“But it's _itchy_ ,” Nepeta whined, squirming away from Equius's hold and ducking around to the other side of the bed, putting the piece of furniture between her and the horrible dress that her moirail was holding out to her. 

“You have to be dressed properly to be in the presence of the Queen and King,” Equius repeated for what was probably the sixth time, advancing around the end of the bed toward her. Nepeta hissed, flattening her ears back. The dress was long and the material itched, and worst of all it limited the movement of her arms with its weird stupid sleeves. When she'd tried it on earlier in the day she'd nearly tripped over the hem going forwards AND backwards. It was terrible.

“Put it on, Nepeta, please,” Equius sighed. “I still have to brush your hair and make it something resembling presentable.” 

“What's wrong with the clothes I'm already wearing?!” She demanded, gesturing to her perfectly modest breast band and hip-pelt. They covered all the important bits! And showed off all her highly impressive battle scars!

“You know full well that those clothes are inappropriate, Nepeta,” her moirail scolded, leaning over her with the stupid evil dress. “Now, will you allow me to help you, or will I have to hold you down and call your mother in?” 

“That's not fair!” She yowled, scampering up onto the bed and fleeing to the other side of the room. “And, I _HATE_ having my hair brushed! It hurts!” 

“If you'd do it more than once every month it wouldn't,” Equius shot back, already coming at her again. “Now, Nepeta, _please_. I still have to prepare myself as well, and the longer I have to coax you into your clothing the less time I will have to make myself presentable.” 

She knew that appearances were incredibly important to her palemate, but couldn't for the life of her understand why. But, that stern plea was enough to have her submit (rather grumpily) to stripping out of her perfectly comfortable and practical clothing and donning the dress, making many faces along the way. 

The dress's color was probably the only thing she liked about it. The long billowy skirt was a bright red, not exactly Karkat's red, but close enough to remind her of him. The bodice was a creamy kind of off-white, cut to hang low on her arms, bearing her neck and shoulders. Equius wrangled her into the plain brown belt-like garment that she'd been told was called an undercorset and buckled it for her, but even he couldn't get her to consent to wearing shoes. 

Felide wandered in just as Equius finished braiding Nepeta's hair, and took one of the thick twin plaits in her hands in order to admire the troll's handiwork. “Such long oinkbeast tails. It's too bad we don't have any feathers or beads to braid into them.” 

Nepeta didn't think that even the most vibrant of plumage could make up for what Equius had done to her glorious wild mane, but Felide seemed so pleased that she was reluctant to gripe. Her mother had garbed herself in a pair of sturdy leather trousers and a silky looking loose blouse, and to Nepeta's surprise, a pair of boots that went up to her knees. She'd never seen her mother wearing shoes before! 

Her skirt was long enough to hide her bare feet, something Equius seemed grateful for. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he left to go get ready himself, leaving her in Felide's care. 

“This shirt is so soft,” Felide purred, running careful fingertips down one pale gold sleeve. “I borrowed it from Epeira. Well, the whole outfit, really. Your dress is one of Vriska's old ones, I hear.” 

It was strange to imagine the rough and tumble Vriska in a swishy dress. Though, apparently everybody dressed up to go see the Queen and King, so maybe it had been necessary. “Carcin is going to be wearing his fancy priest robes! I bet he'll look so handsome.” 

Nepeta's lips twitched into a grin at her mother's happy sigh, her smile growing when she realized that meant that Karkat would be all decked out in his formal armor. He'd been complaining about it the night before – something about buckles and heavy chest plates. And stupid capes. She wasn't looking forward to the way that the heavy dull scent of metal would cover up the smell of her matesprit when she was going into totally new territory, but she supposed that she'd be alright. Equius and Felide were with her, after all. 

\---

“Serve me up on a silver platter, Vantas, I'm boiling like a potato right now.” 

Karkat grunted in agreement, similarly uncomfortable. Dave had wrestled himself into his ceremonial garb as well, though his armor was much less ornamental and far more functional. Fancier than his traveling or training armor, but still just armor. Karkat would be jealous if he wasn't fully aware of how fucking awesome his own highly embellished armor made him look, like some kind of wrathful knight-king. 

“Seriously. I'm so hot, you could split me open and I'd be all fluffy and just begging to be buttered.” Dave mimed splitting his chest apart with his hands, much to Karkat's amusement. “Fill me up with grubsauce and cheese, I'm done. Steaming and shit.” 

“That's fucking disgusting,” he grumbled even as he fought back a smirk. “You're disgusting.”

“Who's buttering Dave?” A voice floated down from above them. Karkat watched in silent glee as Dave immediately poker-faced, head swiveling to search for wherever John's voice was coming from. “And why didn't they get my permission first?” 

“I'm my own potato, thank you very much.” Dave managed to sound affronted. “A big independent spud who doesn't need a prince's permission to get buttered in an alleyway by some charismatic stranger.” 

“Actually, you're Feferi's potato,” John quipped, feet finally touching the ground. “And she's requesting your presence. Apparently you're the only one who can lace her corset up correctly.” 

“It's true, the handmaidens are shitty,” Dave sighed. “No finger strength.” 

He tossed Karkat a loose salute and bobbed his head to John as he took his leave, ambling down the castle corridor toward Feferi's wing in no apparent hurry. 

“You're the shittiest excuse for a prince,” Karkat huffed. “Running around playing messenger.” 

“I've got nothing else to do and I don't want to just sit in the throne room being bored,” John shrugged. “Dad and Condie are too busy _platonically holding hands_ and staring diamonds at each other to do anything funny." 

“What a wet blanket.” 

John ignored Karkat's obvious sarcasm, fiddling with the heavy medallion he wore around his neck. “Yeah, seriously! Everybody else is still busy getting ready for this BIG IMPORTANT MEETING, and when I went to go see what Feferi was getting up to she just yelled at me to go find Dave, or Eridan, or both.” 

“You do realize that this meeting is about the attempted assassination of a royal family member and the discovery of rogue cultists?” John really was the shittiest prince. Karkat was beyond relieved that Jane had a sturdy head on her shoulders, even if she did occasionally get pulled into John's pranking gambits. 

Karkat refused to admit that they were funny. Sometimes. 

“I mean yeah, that all was pretty horrible,” John said, looking untroubled even as he did. “But Dad's just going to get upset and Condie is going to flip all of her fishqueen shit. Meenah will demand blood. Somebody will talk them down and then Feferi will probably just make things worse all over again. Lots of yelling but nothing for me to actually _do_.” 

That was a pretty spot-on prediction of how things were going to go, he had to admit. For all that John was often too whimsical and laissez-faire about kingdom politics, he certainly understood how the people involved worked. 

“The Grand Highblood will probably get involved,” Karkat ventured. “You could count how many times he says 'motherfuck'.” 

“Last time I was at one of these meetings it was twenty seven,” the prince recalled with a buck-toothed grin. “But since we'll all be talking about his sons it'll probably – oh, man, this could get really bad.” 

It was like that realization had just dawned on him. Karkat could see the understanding blossoming over John's face like some kind of cognitive sunrise, lighting his eyes up with apprehension. “Like, really really bad! What if he goes cultist and starts subjuggulating people?” 

“That's why the Knights will be there,” Karkat reasoned, tapping his own chest lightly. “And I'm willing to bet that's why everybody's taking so long to get ready. Doubt they're looking forward to telling a troll that his sons are being hunted by the Empire for crimes against the royal family.” 

“I'm glad I don't have to,” John muttered. “Your dad's brave.” 

More likely just confident in the small army he'd have behind him, Karkat thought. Carcin was no fool – and perhaps the safest any troll could ever be, flanked by two beautifully protective werecats. But, he nodded anyway. 

\--- 

Nepeta had always thought that her tower had been huge, and a marvel of construction. The houses and buildings in Skaia had been quickly put together, she knew, and were improved upon daily, but they hadn't been tall at all. Not like her beloved childhood home, which stretched to the heavens. 

But Alternia put her tower to shame. The Queen's castle in particular made the tower look like some kind of lumpy stick that someone had shoved into the mud, and while that bothered her deeply she was too busy being overwhelmed to care. 

Carpet was an experience. Long strips of it were laid out over the stone floors of the castle, and it was lush and soft on the soles of her feet. Curtains were, too, and she wasn't sure what the point was of purely decorative fabric – it seemed kind of useless, and wasteful. They were thick and heavy, embroidered with elaborate designs and the same motif over and over again. It was a symbol that Nepeta had noticed Feferi wearing before, in the same tyrian color that the princess favored. 

There was...a _lot_ of tyrian going on. 

She was currently sitting in a small room off to the side of the main audience chamber. It had been explained to her that it was a waiting room of sorts, for people who had appointments to speak with the royal court. A large tapestry hung on the opposite wall, depicting mermaids, of all things. One in particular seemed to be the focus of the scene, her glittering trident oddly reminiscent of Feferi's. Before it had been broken, anyway. 

Equius hovered beside her, too antsy to sit on the nice couch. His loss, Nepeta thought. It was absurdly comfortable. She nuzzled her cheek against the velvety fabric, taking comfort in it while she could. This big...meeting...was going to be highly dramatic, especially since Feferi was involved, and she'd heard that the Queen wasn't much better about theatrics. Felide was going to be doing most of the talking wherever the werecats were concerned, but it was Carcin that was ultimately going to be delivering the report.

“You're gunna get your nice jacket all sweaty,” she mumbled, mostly just to see Equius flinch and stiffen. She honestly didn't care what happened to his fancy clothes. He looked really silly in them, she thought. Everybody did. But for whatever reason he was very proud of them, and had mentioned more than once that he hoped that the princess found them suitable. 

Nepeta had innocently asked, “Doesn't it matter more what the Queen thinks?”, and had gotten a flustered glare for her efforts. 

“You've already managed to tear your hem in the back,” he retorted, but she just shrugged. If Nepeta could have her way she'd just slice the whole thing off at the thigh. And slit the sleeves. Hurgh. If some kind of fight broke out she'd waste precious seconds of reaction time because this STUPID dress was so uncomfortable and dumb.

“They won't be able to see the back, so it doesn't matter,” she said after a minute, giggling when he just sighed exasperatedly. 

Stitia snorted, looking distinctly uncomfortable in her own finery from where she was perched in an impressive arm chair on the other side of the room. “None of it matters, if you ask me,” she said, ignoring Equius's offended look. “What's important is what someone has to say, and if they're telling the truth. Not what they wear while they're saying it.” 

She fixed the moirails with a steady gaze, adding, “Words can be pretty if you dress them up, but in the end they only matter if they're true.” While Nepeta mulled that over, a quiet knock sounded on the door, a slim rust-blooded troll peeking his head into the room. 

“The Queen and King are ready to receive their audience,” he announced, bowing and gesturing toward the side of the room, where a different door would lead into the chamber itself. Stitia nodded and swept to her feet, more than ready for the meeting to begin. She ushered Equius and Nepeta toward the door, but stepped through first, leading them into the next room with her head held high and shoulders back. 

It was a lot to take in. A line of thrones ranged across the far wall, a thick section of carpet leading up to them. More tyrian, Nepeta noted. Tyrian woven with gold scroll designs along the sides. It was easier to look at the carpet than it was the thrones, because they were _too_ complicated. Etched and carved and jewel studded, though the ones farthest off to the sides were the plainest. The one that the troll Nepeta could safely determine as the Queen was seated in was the largest and most lavish, inset with a plush quilted cushion. The King's was only slightly smaller, not as tall, but certainly just as dripping in jewels and ornate metal work. Next were the miniature thrones that Jane (if she were present) and a tyrian troll that Nepeta didn't know sat in, plainer and significantly shorter, but still grand and beautiful even though they seemed to be carved from stone instead of gold. Finally, John and Feferi were seated in what appeared to be gorgeously carved wooden thrones, thin veins of gold and silver forming swirled patterns along the arms and legs. 

Each of them held some sort of staff or scepter, with the exception of Feferi. Nepeta figured that she would have been holding her trident had she still had it, and wondered if that's why the princess looked peeved. John looked silly with his scepter, which looked oddly like some kind of large decorative hammer. It lay across his knees, probably too heavy for him to actually hold. 

If Nepeta had thought that Feferi's trident had been impressive (which it had), the Queen's put it to shame. It was much longer, and seemed much sharper, deadlier, _crueler_ somehow. Jewels and gemstones winked at her whenever it moved, and Nepeta was beginning to wonder if going about dripping in gems was a family trait. 

The Queen herself was highly impressive looking as well. Nepeta had never seen so much HAIR in her life, and she'd grown up with two werecats who had never gotten a haircut. It spilled over the queen's shoulders unbound, roiling and curling and waving almost like a dark sea, and pooled at the troll's feet. A golden tiara spanned her forehead, holding the hair back from her face. Thin decorative chains hung from the tines of her fins, looping from one to the next, the last and longest bit connecting from the lowest fin to the edges of the tiara. There was a ring for every finger, and at least six or seven bracelets on each arm, not counting the elaborate golden wrist-cuffs. A thick diamond nestled in the troll's (ridiculous) cleavage, its chain nearly useless. 

But for all that the Queen appeared regal and absolutely covered in gold, her feet didn't touch the floor when she sat in her throne. Apparently she was just as short as Feferi. That struck Nepeta as kind of absurdly funny. 

The King seemed a stately and handsome man, a calm smile twisting his lips. He didn't seem to favor the elaborate pageantry that his moirail did, a simple thick golden circlet with a single blue gem sat on his head. When he winked at her Nepeta decided that she liked him, and grinned, bobbing in the awkward bow that Equius had been attempting to teach her all morning. 

When she straightened, she noticed that Carcin and Felide had entered the room from a different door, her mother following closely behind her mate and her nose wriggling as she scented the room. Apparently she'd had the forethought to cut a hole in her trousers for her tail – Nepeta's was feeling kind of smothered underneath all her swishy skirts. 

“Your majesties,” Carcin began, arms sweeping up from his sides and extending out in front of him, palms up and loose. “Thank you for receiving us. I have much to say and not all of it is pleasant.” 

It was strange to see the troll garbed in his fancy robes, a long stretch of fabric trailing after him like the train of a wedding dress. Feferi had shown her some sketched illustrations for a dress that Kanaya was apparently planning on sewing for Felide, and Nepeta had thought that perhaps a train was the dumbest thing ever. It'd just get stepped on and torn off. 

Carcin had his own circlet, but it was a dull silver-grey, and lacked any jewels, instead Karkat's sign curling over his forehead. Well, Carcin's sign, really, Nepeta supposed. But the robes were a pretty color – bright, bright red, with black cuffs. 

“From what little I have heard from my son, not much of it is pleasant at all,” Joel replied, seeming unbothered by the stray curl of Tiamat's hair that hovered in front of his face. Carcin nodded, dropping his arms. “Unfortunately, that is true. I'll begin with happier things, though, like the arrival of our new allies.” 

Felide and Nepeta perked up, halting their individual explorations of the chamber in order to step forward. It was bound to be a long meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the meeting begins! 
> 
> So much jewelry, Tiamat. So much.


	22. Well, that happened.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fossor finally makes an appearance at the meeting, which promptly takes a turn for the worse. Aranea holds a Theory Meeting back in Skaia.

The Grand Highblood had shown up, certainly. He'd come careening into the audience chamber thirty minutes into the meeting, wild hair in disarray and in a general state of undress. Nepeta didn't see much wrong with going about wearing only your trousers, but from the reactions of the rest of the people in the room, her opinion was in the losing camp. 

He was a massive troll, tall and bulky, his wicked horns spiraling toward the high ceiling, oddly reminiscent of her tower. His muscles twitched and heaved with his every movement as he nearly danced down the long stretch of carpet that lead to the wall of thrones, his steps ungainly and staggered, like he was drunk. 

Greasy looking paint was smeared messily across his face, like he'd done it with his fingers in a big rush. Nepeta had applied much fiercer looking warpaint in her own day, but for some reason the plain whites and blacks filled her with a sense of unease that had the hair on the back of her neck raising. Felide's tail was bottlebrushed out and her fangs bared, which validated her own fear, but certainly didn't help her feel any better. 

A look crossed Tiamat's face that could have quelled the fiercest ocean storm in seconds, but she didn't bother to rise from her throne. Nepeta's ears picked up the faint cracking of her knuckles as her grip tightened on her trident. “Fossor, you had best have a good reason for donning such heretical garb,” she called, perfectly painted lips pulled into a severe frown. “And for showing your face so late. Your disrespect is galling.” 

The massive troll let out a strange kind of honking laugh that set Nepeta's teeth on edge immediately. As he lurched closer to where she was standing she noticed the long thick clubs he held in each huge hand, cruel looking spikes sprouting from every angle seemingly at random. They smelled of blood and fear and nightmares, and she instinctively stepped closer to Carcin, her claws itching. 

“I see nothing here worthy of my RESPECT!” Fossor boomed, raising a hand in order to point at Tiamat and Joel with one of his clubs. Fresh blood dripped from a spike tip and landed on the carpet, a garish spot of bright yellow on tyrian. 

“All I see are a line of FOOLS and DISBELIEVERS sitting in a row, like LAMBS ready for the SLAUGHTER!” 

Karkat snarled, motioning for the rest of the Knights to fall into position, hauling his shield up before him as he stepped in front of Carcin. John sprung from his throne around the same time that Eridan leveled his bow, and Dave was a flurry of blurred movement as he flash-stepped to block Feferi from view. A crisp hand motion from Joel had the lines and lines of royal guards that flanked the side walls of the room stepforward, a din of metal and chain the only other noise besides Fossor's echoing threats. 

“Explain yourself!” Tiamat snapped, her voice ringing out across the tension that had filled the room. “Before I have you culled for insubordination!” 

“The MESSIAHS work in ways that you can't believe, Tia!” Fossor brayed, not at all bothered by the numerous amount of guards that were slowly hedging toward him. “That you WON'T believe! I sent my sons out into the world as PROPHETS, to deliver the MIRTH! I've been given a dark mission, Ti, and the Carnival doesn't STOP until They say it STOPS!” 

He swayed, lurched, nearly toppled himself over. “I tried to bring you into the FAMILY, oh cracked diamond of mine, but you can't hear the SONGS they SING. You can't hear the MUSIC. You have all the colors but you can't PAINT!” 

Blood sprayed as he swung a club at the nearest guard, the spikes catching the thin armor of the helmet and puncturing it. Brilliant green leaked and then splurted as the guard toppled to the ground. 

“And now you hunt my PROPHETS!” He took another swing, this time wading ever closer to the throne where Tiamat had now gotten to her feet, fury shining in her eyes. Joel called for Fossor's arrest, though the guards seemed to hesitate, some outright turning and running in the other direction when Fossor began to laugh, his teeth long and sharp and bloodied. 

“You can't stop what has already STARTED, Tiamat! The CARNIVAL, it will have its REVIVAL, a new BIRTH in the new WORLD!” 

His laughter was impossibly loud, echoing and filling all the empty spaces in the room until it was all that could be heard. It was pure madness, ragged and haunting, and Nepeta felt it tearing at her mind, slicing like it had talons. 

She sprang forward, sweeping her arm out and intercepting one of his wicked clubs just as it was about to crash down on another hapless guard, her claws splintering the wood where they sank in. She felt the curve of it beneath her palm, and focused, crushing it with a feral snarl. Fossor paused in his laughter long enough to stare at her wildly, but it was all that she needed. With a sharp jerk she tore the damaged club from his hand and slammed it to the ground, utterly satisfied to see it break right in half. 

“Try not to kill him, I want him alive for questioning,” Tiamat ordered, dropping back into her throne and now looking bored. “But don't try too hard, I suppose.” 

Nepeta readied herself for a lethal strike, but it seemed that Fossor had other ideas. He snatched her by her hair and hauled her closer to him, lifting her from the ground so that he could dangle her at eye level. She kicked and spat, but as soon as she made eye contact she felt her limbs growing heavy, unresponsive. He dropped her, and she hit the ground like a stone, laying splayed and unmoving. 

Too many things happened at once for her to be able to put together. Her mind was moving so sluggishly, so slowly, that it was all that she could do to recognize Felide when her mother knelt in front of her. Blurred shapes milled around in the background, Fossor's massive frame chief among them, and Nepeta wasn't sure if the dark tendrils of shadow creeping up the walls was due to a potential head injury or some kind of horrible magic at work. 

Strange, lilting music was playing in her ears, off tune and incessant. Bright flashes of garish color came and went, and she was only dimly aware of Karkat dropping weakly to his knees, body sagging to the floor near her. Guards were finally beginning to overwhelm Fossor, mostly due to John heaving his massive hammer and braining the troll across the temple with it, but even that didn't stop the strange descent into madness that Nepeta was currently experiencing. 

Equius dropped next, and then Felide, followed by Feferi. Dave was shaking his head side to side, and Nepeta watched with confused fascination as his hair seemed to swish in super slow motion, face drawn in agony. The music was now blaring in her ears, having picked up tempo to something fierce and awful. It tore at her, ripping down the sides of her body and scraping at her skin. Stitia dropped. 

As her eyes were closing, she watched Fossor seize Carcin by the throat even as he went under in a pile of guards, his shrieking scream bouncing around inside her head. 

“WELCOME TO THE DARK CARNIVAL!” 

\---

“I've been doing some investigation,” Aranea murmured over the rim of her teacup, turning the page of the book that was on the table in front of her. “As to what exactly Kurloz and Gamzee were up to.” 

“Other than assassination, of course,” Rose chimed in, smirking slightly when Kanaya pursed her lips. 

“Yes, other than assassination. I took it upon myself to see what the left behind in their tents, and found my curiosity well rewarded.” 

Kanaya wondered if this was the part where she was supposed to lean forward and hang off of Aranea's every word, but refrained from doing so, wishing that the other troll would just get on with it and tell them what she found instead of drawing it out. The fugitives had been gone for well over a week at this point, and with a good majority of their strongest fighters away from the village Kanaya felt that they were in a uniquely weak position. If there was a new lead on a way to begin rectifying the situation she wanted to get to work on it immediately. 

“It appears that Kurloz had been looking into all sorts of absolutely fascinating channels of dark magics. Which really, will surprise no one, certainly myself. What _was_ particularly interesting, however, was that much of his research was on genealogy and transfer of power. A few very old and very powerful inheritance rites had been set aside in journals and the like. I did find something that surprised me, though.” Aranea tapped a finger lightly on the cover of some sort of tome that Kanaya hadn't paid much attention to. It was raggedy and dirty, and smelled faintly like old blood. 

“Stories and details of weretrolls. Apparently this new expansion of the empire we were tasked with was colonized and settled eons ago by the Queen's ancestors, but for whatever reasons the settlements never worked out. The most common reason cited was 'wild animal attacks', but...” She trailed off with a meaningful expression, and Kanaya had to try very hard not to sigh in exasperation. She didn't have the _patience_ for Aranea at the moment. She didn't want stories, just answers. 

“I've come to believe that perhaps _Felide's_ ancestors, whoever and whatever they may have been, did not take kindly to encroachment on their territory.” 

“Why would Kurloz be tracking down information on weretolls?” Rose wondered aloud, frowning. “I'd heard whispers of them, back before I ever came here, but knowledge of them isn't well known or widespread. It seems too convenient for him to have this information and then stow away illegally to a new settlement that just so happens to run into werecats.” 

Aranea beamed at the young woman, nodding her head. “Precisely! Much too convenient. Which is why I think that perhaps Kurloz and Gamzee came here _looking_ for one.” 

Kanaya stared at the table, not even bothering to hide her puzzled expression. What did genealogy tomes have anything to do with weretroll myths? And what could Kurloz possibly want with either? They hadn't been any bother to the community at all until their attack on Feferi, which would have seemed random if the poisoning hadn't been premeditated. 

“Cultists,” she grumbled, dropping another sugar cube into her own tea. Rose made a quiet affirmative noise in agreement, delicately tapping her toe against Kanaya's under the table, a silent show of solidarity. 

Aranea hummed, opening _yet another_ book and pointing to a line of text that Kanaya couldn't be bothered to read even if it wasn't upside down. “I have a few theories as to what Kurloz could possibly want with a weretroll, and I am prepared to go over each of them in detail. Rose, do you think you could brew some more tea, please? I think mine's gone cold.” 

“We can't have cold tea,” Rose said with a 'tsk' of her tongue, rising from the table and collecting the cups with a zest that suggested she was just as tired of 'theory time with Aranea' as Kanaya was. 

“Thank you, Rose. Anyway, cultists have been known in the past to use all sorts of rites and rituals in order to worship their gods, so it wouldn't be too much of a leap in logic to assume that they wanted a weretroll for one of them! But which one? The possibilities are nearly endless!” 

“ _Cultists._ ” Kanaya grumbled again, this time with feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :33


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta talks with Equius and Felide when all she really wants is a nap, and Karkat does a lot of thinking while the idiots around him fail to get along like decent people.

By the time that Nepeta could finally peel herself off of the floor an unnatural silence had fallen, ringing hollow in her ears. Her limbs were leaden and heavy as she pulled herself up into a lopsided kneel, palms braced on her knees. 

Bodies both familiar and strange were strewn across the floor, a garish rainbow of blood smeared in arcs from one crumpled guard to the next. Her nose crinkled as the smell began to register, and she pawed at her face, unsurprised to find that her hand came away bloodied, though whose blood she couldn't say for certain. 

Felide was curled at her back, one hand laying limp on Nepeta's ankle. Her nose was twitching, though she didn't seem to be awake just yet. Equius was not far, crumpled just out of reach. Slowly, her eyes tracked down all of her companions, locating Karkat here and John there, Dave and Feferi in a heap with Eridan just behind. Tiamat slouched in her throne, Joel's arm outstretched over her chest. Stitia was grumbling to herself as she rose from the floor, rubbing at her eyes. Meenah, who had been terribly quiet throughout the whole thing, appeared to be absent. 

As did Carcin. 

Remembering the final scene she saw before she succumbed to the music conjured a deep chilly dread in her stomach, and she heaved herself the rest of the way off of the floor in order to stumble to where she'd last seen Fossor and Carcin, sniffing furiously. Despite the splashes of indigo and bright red blood on the ground there was no scent for her to catch, no indication of where they'd gone. 

“Momma?” Feferi called out, and Nepeta turned to look at her, something in her heart breaking at the expression on the princess's face. “Meenah's gone.” 

Tiamat had woken, but simply continued to stay slumped where she was, the only sign of her consciousness the slow flutter of her eyelashes and her downturned lips. “I know,” was all she said, and she plucked at Joel's arm until he moved it. 

Nepeta heard her mother move before she saw it, and wasn't surprised when Felide was at her feet, sniffing vigorously along the floor, smears of bright red gathering on her nose when she dragged it through in order to try and catch a scent. “Why would they take Meenah?” John piped, face scrunched in confusion. 

“I doubt they took her,” Stitia said quietly, arms crossed over her chest as she surveyed the bloody room. “There's no tyrian blood spilled, and Princess Meenah was one to put up a fight if threatened.” 

All heads in the room swiveled to watch Tiamat and Feferi for their reactions, except for Eridan, who continued to run his fingers comfortingly through his palemate's hair. “So you're saying she just _went_? With _them_?” Feferi cried out, batting away the hand that Dave had settled on her shoulder. “Why would she _do_ that?!” 

“Why indeed,” Stitia murmured, gazing at Tiamat over the rims of her glasses. 

“Is no one going to mention the fact that my matesprit is missing?” Felide hissed, ears flat with fury. “Surely he's important, too!” 

Nepeta helped Karkat to his feet, frowning at the large dent that had been put in his shield. He seemed to be struggling to keep a neutral expression, and failing miserably. His eyes were wild as they scanned the room, leaping from face to face with a growing sense of urgency. 

“He's the highest member of his order,” Equius said to Felide, his tone similar to whenever he was trying to calm Nepeta during one of her hissy fits. “Of course he's important.” He paused, and frowned, adding, “Although, that is probably why he was taken.” 

“Well, squabbling about it won't solve anything. I need everyone out of this audience chamber so that it can be...cleaned.” Joel stood from his throne, face made severe by the wrinkles from his frown. “Everyone back to their rooms, please. We'll need everyone where we can keep a guard.” 

Nepeta bit back a comment on how the guards hadn't been _all_ that helpful in the first place, except for serving as meat shields. She allowed Equius to shepherd her back to her rooms, Felide stalking agitatedly behind them. She wanted Karkat to come with her too, but he'd already been swept up in the organization of what remained of the castle guard. 

The bed sang an undeniable siren song, and she climbed into it with a groan, sagging against the soft mattress. Felide's familiar weight was a comfort where it settled in beside her, and when Equius delicately arranged himself on her other side she figured she could count herself, for the moment, complete. 

“This place is madness,” Felide whispered harshly into Nepeta's shoulder, curling an arm around her daughter's middle. “We should never have come here.” 

Nepeta was tempted to say that even going to the _village_ to begin with had been a bad move, but reigned in her tongue once more, knowing her mother was in no mood to hear her sass. Felide's hands shook in slight tremors even as they grasped at her, claws pressing into her skin with uncomfortable pressure. She bore it quietly, starting a gentle thrumming purr in her chest. 

Surprisingly it was Equius that spoke, one of his large hands coming down to pat Felide as carefully as he could on her head. It was awkward, and stilted, but the troll seemed to appreciate the sentiment. “The palace has always been a violent and unpredictable place. The Grand Hi-”, he paused, cleared his throat, “...Fossor would typically cull whoever came to the Queen with what he felt to be trivial complaints. That practice ceased when he was ousted from his position.”

“Apparently he decided to start it up again,” Felide seethed. “And now he's taken my matesprit. Was it not enough that his _spawn_ stole my daughter? He must have my mate too?!” 

The older werecat flung herself from the bed, skidding on the floor before beginning to pace with a furious kind of energy, stalking invisible enemies across the carpet. Nepeta sympathized, but her bones still felt too heavy to do much moving. Every now and then stray notes of that fanatical music would float across her mind, and she felt sleepy, so very drop dead tired. 

“What kind of ruler allows that kind of horrible magic to be used in her territory?” Felide hissed, mostly to herself. “All that blood, but no scent to track! That monster is gone, gone with my mate, he took Carcin and I can't...there's no trail...I can't smell...” 

The troll shrieked, a feral and helpless sound full of rage. Carcin's bright blood was still smeared across her nose and lips from where she'd dragged her face across the ground in an attempt to scent out a trail to follow, and it appeared that in the commotion the soft silky shirt that she'd liked so much had been ripped down one of its billowy sleeves. 

Nepeta wanted to feel her mother's fury, but her body wanted her to nap even more. “He took Meenah too,” she mumbled, feeling that that was somehow important, even if her brain didn't want to focus on it now. Felide just hissed incomprehensibly, though Equius seemed displeased with the woman's lack of concern over the missing heiress. Nepeta tugged at his sleeve, turning so that she could bury her face in his chest. Sleep time for now, theories later, when she could actually think. 

\---

“That went about as badly as it could possibly go. Only thing that could have made that worse was if he'd announced right then and there that he was going to overthrow the Empire.” 

Karkat glanced at Dave, then back down at his gloved hands, frowning at the blood stains on the maille. Politics weren't really his thing – they COULD be, if he so chose, but he didn't – and they weren't really Dave's either, but the guy seemed on the verge of a freak out and Karkat's criticisms wouldn't do him any favors.   
“He wants the Empire, why would he overthrow it?” Eridan piped up, lounging on the steps before the thrones. “He just wants Joel and Tiamat gone. Well, probably just Joel. And Carcin. And the whole Church.” 

“So basically everything good about this shitty blood-soaked Empire. Fantastic. Because let me tell you, I am _so_ ready to accept my clown dictator and take up my rightful role as a goddamn fly as fuck acrobat in his shithive maggots circus.” 

Karkat braced himself for the rant, plopping down on the stairs beside Eridan and hanging his head between his knees. 

“I will walk that tightrope like I came out of my mother's womb on it, just shimmying on along as a newborn in a ridiculous costume, doing flips and shit. I grew up on that tightrope, my first word was 'balance', it taught me how to be a man and what the true meaning of love is.” 

The blonde's words came spewing out of his mouth faster and faster, voice rising in pitch. Eridan wrinkled his nose, the only comment he offered being, “John would probably be better at that. You seem more of the general revelry type.” 

“You saying I don't look like I could walk my pretty ass down a tightrope, fishface? Because I'll have you know, I'm limber as fuck, I could just -” 

Whatever rude gesture Dave was about to make was covered by John's arrival, the prince removing his heavy cape and draping it over the knight from a few feet above him, effectively dousing his fire. “Dad's gone back to his rooms with Condie. They'll be in there for a while with all the generals and counselors and other important people figuring out their plan of action. He didn't want me in there, though.” 

“Will be pretty boring until the shouting starts up,” Eridan breezed, coming off like he knew what it was like to be a high ranking general or esteemed member of the council, and felt it a heavy burden to bear, though painfully necessary. Karkat wondered how someone could possibly be so pompous, and bit back a snarl. 

Dave shook the prince's cape off of his head and sank to the ground, the process made slow by his armor. John hovered a moment more before eventually taking a seat as well, completing their strange little brooding square. 

Karkat looked around at them, briefly surprised at the company he kept. Eridan was an heir in his own right, though not to anything explicitly royal – his father was a high noble in good favor with Tiamat, and held most of the lucrative (legal) shipping contracts with the Empire. Dave came from a family that had loyally serving knights in every generation back to the planting of his genealogical tree, the House of Strider-Lalonde being one that bred awe-inspiring warriors of ferocity and poise, and diplomats with shrewd brains and balls of goddamn steel. 

He himself was the son of the Empire's current reigning religious authority, a miniature priest of the way of the Sufferer, though he went about worshiping the Blood differently than both his father and brother. The armor he wore marked him as a knight of the cause, a protector of the church, a weapon to be wielded in the name of their beliefs. 

And then John was just a fucking prince, out and out. Nothing else to be said. 

Should he really be surprised that some kind of freakish religious murder-coup had just gone down, what with the company he kept? Politics followed wherever royalty and prestige tread, though it didn't always leave such fantastically shitty messes behind for him and his cohorts to clean up. 

The bodies of the dead had been removed from the Hall, and most of the blood was in the process of being mopped up from the floors and out of the carpeting. Those drapes were probably ruined forever, though. Karkat watched blearily as the servants went about their work, wondering what it felt like to wake up in the morning and wonder whose blood you'd be cleaning out of the upholstery that day. 

Really, when he thought about it, it wasn't much different from wondering whose blood you'd be spilling on said upholstery. He heaved a guttural kind of sigh, running his hands down his face. His father was missing, and could probably be presumed dead, if not being held in some kind of horrible cultist torture cell. The Heiress was gone and would probably be branded a traitor or conspirator in the abduction of Troll Jegus. The whole empire was going to fucking _revolt_ , and it'd be his job in some capacity to control it. 

He missed Skaia, he really did. 

But there was one face, lurking conspicuously in the doorway, that he did not miss. 

Kankri hovered as if he were concerned that by entering someone's four foot radius he was somehow going to violate them. Karkat just simply did not have the patience or mental fortitude to deal with his brother at the moment, but it looked like he did not have a choice. Dave and John seemed to have beat a tactical retreat, and Eridan was slowly inching away toward the door on the opposite side of the hall, clearing his throat and murmuring something about needing to attend to Feferi. 

Karkat waved him away, and looked up at Kankri with as much chagrin in his expression as he could muster, which at the moment was a whole goddamn lot. The other troll was unperturbed, instead motioning that Karkat remove himself from the floor and come for a walk with him. 

“We have much to discuss, brother, as this is a delicate emotional climate and must be navigated carefully and with compassion.” 

If Kankri were not possibly his last living relative, Karkat may seriously have beaten his head in for lack of tact or any kind of graceful social timing. 

“Yeah, whatever, fine. As long as we walk by Nepeta's room, because that's where I want to be.” Kanaya wasn't here, and as much as he could have used his moirail's presence, distracting himself with his matesprit would just have to do. Kankri didn't seem overly pleased by this ultimatum, but accepted it anyway, gesturing for Karkat to lead. 

By the Blood, it was only 11am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooookay. I know I took a very long break from this story, but now I'm feeling ready to come back to it. I don't know if I'll be updating it regularly, or just popping up chapters when I feel the creative juices flowing, but hey! Writing! Yay! 
> 
> As always, I'm floating around on Ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit.tumblr.com.


	24. Tyrian Tyranny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat finds Xander alone in the Church, Eridan is ambushed with moirail gossip by Feferi, and Meenah finds herself in possession of a brand sparkling new empire.

The church of the Sufferer was best known for its simplicity of dogma. Every caste, every blood hue, every hatched grub was perfectly equal in the eyes of those who loved greatly and hated fairly. One could have a matesprit, yes, but one's true Red aspiration should be to be up to your horns in vivid crimson for the betterment of those around you. Utterly and unequivocally chalky white pale for the unsoothed masses, those that cry out in need of aid. Dark ashen clearheaded diplomacy for those who wither, set in their violent ways. Purely stark obsidian Black for the Troll condition – creatures of instinct who can only be set on the path to betterment by intervention. 

Carcin had always made it known that he glorified the pale quadrant above all the others, even though the other three were just as necessary. This was made obvious by the church's interior, where all the quadrant symbols were represented, but the diamond was featured over and over time and time again. 

Karkat found himself wandering down the center aisle, lightly running his gauntleted fingers over the arm rails of pews as he passed them. The floor tiles were arranged into large mosaic diamonds, points of white in a sea of dusty red. He paused just before the dais toward the back of the room, the upraised stage that housed the pulpit that Carcin usually preached from. He'd expected to find himself alone here, escaping everyone except for maybe Kankri, but when his eyes landed on the still figure perched stiffly on the floor, he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. 

“Xander,” he murmured, unsurprised when the older troll didn't stir. 

Sollux and Mituna bore such an uncanny resemblance to their father that it was wondered if Xander had somehow managed to reproduce by budding. The psionic's muted yellow robes seemed rumpled and unkempt, and Karkat wondered how long he'd been kneeling there in silence. When he settled himself quietly next to the only other troll in the Church, Xander didn't even bother to look at him, instead continuing to gaze up at the stained glass mural that took up most of the back wall. 

Karkat's heart squeezed painfully when he took note of the dried yellow tracks on the troll's cheeks, his eyes red and glossed over with a dull shine. 

“You look so much like him,” Xander finally spoke, voice sounding creaky. “More than Kankri does. Maybe it's the determination in your face, or the fire in your eyes.” 

Karkat liked to think it was because he had his father's wide-set shoulders and handsome jaw, but compliments were compliments. “Maybe it's the stubbornness, too.” 

Xander turned his head to look at him, lips pulled in a thin line. “It was that stubbornness that built this church,” he murmured. “And left it without a leader.” 

“You think he's really dead?” Karkat blurted, shocked. His father's moirail had always been one inclined toward doom and gloom, but if any hope still lived in that heart it should have been for Carcin's return or continued welfare. “Why?” 

Xander seemed to sink in on himself, head lowering so that his forehead rested on the dais step. “I don't know. He doesn't _feel_ dead. But everything seems so hopeless without him here. He belongs here, in this place he built. Not wherever that murderous psychopath whisked him off to.” 

There was a moment of silence, before Xander croaked, “I should have been there. I could have saved him.” 

\----------------------------  
He could feel Fef's eyes on him, and he resolutely committed himself to pretending that he hadn't noticed her staring for the past few minutes. She was a whirlwind of emotions even on a good day, even if generally pleasant, but with everything that had just happened there was really no telling what her emotional climate was like. He wasn't ignoring her, exactly, but more just...not exacerbating the issue by asking prying questions. 

Finally, when the weight of her gaze grew to be too much, he flicked his eyes over to her, taking in her form sprawled across the oversized armchair she'd thrown herself into. She'd removed her tiara, as if it were simply too heavy to deal with, and her hair flowed with wild abandon over her shoulders and chest. 

“Yes, princess?” He asked, definitely not shifting in his own seat. Feferi's eyes narrowed like they were trying to track prey moving across the room, and to feel that predator's focus on himself was somewhat uncomfortable. 

“Who is she?” Feferi finally asked, and _wow_ , that was not the question he'd been expecting. “W-what?” Eridan sputtered, drawing himself up straight in his chair, hands flying up to awkwardly pick at his cravat. 

“I don't feel like talking about what happened yesterday,” she announced, curling some of her hair around her finger. “So I'm distracting myself with moirail gossip. Who is she? That girl back in Skaia that you're always letting lean all over you.” 

She must mean Roxy, his brain supplied, and he couldn't stop the smile that spread over his face even at the thought of her. Feferi's eyebrows ascended up to her hairline, her lips quirking in to an amused half-grin. “Yeah, that girl. Whoever makes you smile like that. I want to know all about her. Your princess commands you!” 

Funny how she only threw her royalty around when it was convenient. It was horribly endearing that Feferi thought his love life required a royal mandate in order to be discussed. “Her name is Roxy,” he began, sighing when Feferi immediately interrupted, “Lalonde? Of the Strider-Lalondes?” 

“Yes, Lalonde. She's Rose's older sister.” 

“Is she a Seer too?” Feferi queried, slinging her legs sideways over the arm of her chair. 

“No,” he answered. “As far as I know she doesn't have any magical affinity. She's a vintner, actually, and a very clever one. And a fair shot with a crossbow. For not being a Seer like her sister she's actually quite adept at deciphering manuscripts and manipulating the ancient languages.” 

“A bunch of talent and no way to use it, huh?” Feferi mused. “That must be hard.” 

Eridan knew that she meant being able to read the language that spells were cast in but not having the capability to cast them, but he interjected anyway, “She uses her talents! Roxy's very bright! And very sweet, and wonderfully insightful. And forward thinking, too – she's one of the few humans I know that classifies her relationships in terms of quadrants.” 

His moirail giggled at that, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Does she intend _you_ for one of those quadrants, Eri?” 

That, he couldn't be sure of. Even his own intentions were somewhat muddled and unclear. As far as appropriate matches went Roxy was as good as nobility, born into one of the more affluent and influential human houses. She wasn't a troll, which kind of put a kink in things, but...it wasn't like troll and human matespritships were frowned upon. Not directly, anyway. Not by Eridan. 

And certainly not by Feferi, if the giggles that she'd collapsed into were any indication. “Oh, your face! You blush the most handsome shade of violet, Eri, you really do! As soon as we get back to Skaia you'd better start wooing her _immediately_!” 

“We're going back? I mean – you're going back? To Skaia?” He hadn't been expecting Tiamat to let her daughter escape her sights so soon after Meenah's desertion, especially to go back to where there had been known cult activity and an attempt on her life. 

“Mother doesn't really want me to stay here, if that's what you're thinking,” Feferi piped, kicking her feet idly. “And even if she did, I wouldn't want to be here by myself once the rest of you leave. Plus! I want to see you fall deeply in love, Eridan! I want to watch you and Roxy make googoo eyes at each other and hold hands and go for walks on the beach.” 

He could feel his face heating, fins fluttering in embarrassment. “You just want to ogle Zahhak some more, I bet!” 

Feferi was shameless. “That, too.” 

For a moment they just laughed at one another, and Eridan fell quiet until she reached out and took hold of his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Plus, we've got to find Carcin and Meenah. I have this feeling that they went back to Skaia, even if mother and Joel think that they're in the Imperial city somewhere.” 

He watched his moirail's face harden, lips pulling into a determined frown. “I have a whale of a problem with the way Meenah just ran off. We're gunna talk, once I find her.” 

\-----------------------------------

Meenah loved the ocean, really, she did. But after a week on that cramped, shitty boat that Fossor had managed to steal she was _so_ ready to be on land again. She understood that stealing something bigger and better and more comfortable (and befitting her rank) would have just tipped off the entirety of the Royal Navy, but couldn't Fossor's dark carnival mental trickery have just made them all steer clear? 

Whatever. She had other problems to deal with now, most importantly the fact that she was now on a mostly uninhabited island, the nearest hint of civilization being a shitty little 'town' built from leftover construction scrap. Skaia was pathetic, as far as royal efforts at colonization went. Not even ONE golden statute of the Empress, or proper roads. Or anything, really. Once she was in charge of this whole jungle island she'd raze it all down and build it up RIGHT. 

Meenah didn't have time to wait around for Tiamat to decide she felt like croaking it. She had that itch to rule running in her blood, and it was about time that she take control of her hatchright. Queen Meenah, Empress of the Unexplored Continent. Fossor had promised her her own dominion, and how could she possibly say no to that? 

Yeah, yeah, she felt a little bad about the whole Carcin thing. She wasn't sure what Fossor wanted with the guy, other than maybe just to take out some sore feelings on him. Or to hold him for ransom? More money could only be a good thing, and she could only imagine staring her mother down as Tiamat forked over the goods, desperate for her precious Priest back. It made her smile with all her shark-sharp teeth, and her coal-black heart thump with glee. 

Carcin was a huge downer anyway. Even now, off of that stupid boat and free to walk around on land again he just looked sad and kind of disapproving, like he could read her mind. Again, whatever. Not her priest, not her problem. 

“Maybe once Fossor's done with you he'll let you go back to Skaia,” Meenah drawled, flicking her braids over her shoulders. “I mean, probably not. But maybe. That's something to smile about, yeah?” 

“His quarrel is not with me, but with himself,” Carcin said calmly. “His heart is so black that all other feeling escapes him. There's nothing left there but madness, but still I pray that he can master himself.” 

“Yeah, whatever that means. Sounds great. I'm hungry.” Would it have killed Fossor to have kidnapped some servants or something? Meenah wasn't really against tridenting her own dinner straight out of the ocean, but she shouldn't _have_ to, being the Queen and everything. She turned to watch the humongous troll finally deign to leave their boat, shaking her head. Really, Fossor was just ridiculously huge. What was it even like, to be so tall? 

“So when are we meeting up with your kids?” Meenah demanded, thrusting the end of her trident into the sand. “I don't really wanna stand around on this beach all day. It's a nice beach but I've got some serious conquering to do.” 

Fossor seemed amused, which was annoying. He'd better start answering her questions. “Kurloz and Gamzee will be here by nightfall. They are aware of our presence, thanks to their little werecat pet.” 

Carcin seemed to perk up, murmuring, “Meulin?” 

He was ignored, though Fossor did kick some sand at him. Ugh, his blackcrush was so fucking obvious it was literally painful to watch. Though, it wasn't exactly politically correct kissmessitude to be outright psychotically murderous with your flirtation. Maybe Fossor was just extra devoted to the idea. 

Again, whatever! Meenah couldn't care less about quadrants unless they were hers. Which didn't exactly have anything going on in them so she was free to not think about them at all. Although, she did seem to remember that a certain Serket was supposedly in the expedition colony. An interesting thought for another time. 

“Well, they'd better hurry. And bring dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 38]


	25. A Priest, an Heiress, and a Clown Cultist walk into a jungle...

Nepeta fell upon the dirt with a broken cry of relief, rolling around in it without shame. She could hear Equius's disapproving sigh from the railing of the ship where he still stood, but couldn't bring herself to care. Felide joined her not even seconds after, grunting something about never setting foot on a ship again if she could help it. 

The sense of being _home_ again was nearly overpowering, despite the fact that this was just the docks outside Skaia and not actually her tower. The dirt and air and grass were all familiar, the heady scents of jungle and rain. She ignored Eridan's taunting, too pleased to be back to bother with picking a fight. 

“We ought to check in with Jane,” Feferi called out as she glided down the ramp to the docks, sparkly new trident clutched casually in one hand. “Sollux only sent a message or two while we were gone, and we do have a search party to form.” 

Nepeta agreed with Feferi's notion that Fossor had fled the reach of the Empire, most likely joining up with his sons somewhere on the unconquered continent. She was excited and more than ready to start ripping through the jungle for them, to smell their blood splashed against the dirt and trees. Not everyone thought the princess was right, of course, but Nepeta didn't particularly care about their opinions. 

John hopped straight from the ship's bow to the ground, clothes fluttering with the wind that had assisted him. Karkat wasn't too far behind, poking his head out of the cabin and squinting into the sun. “Fuck, I forgot how bright it was out here,” he grumbled, face scrunching up in displeasure. Nepeta huffed in amusement – her mate was cute even when he was grumpy. Sometimes particularly so. 

“I smell the return of our sea-going heroes!” Someone called out, and Nepeta's ears twitched, locating the source of the voice and identifying it as Terezi. “Oh, and Karkat's there, too. Pity he didn't drown.” 

The teal troll came strolling into view just seconds later, arm-in-arm with a grinning Jane. Nepeta frowned at her, squashing the hiss that wanted to come bubbling up out of her lips. Karkat's kismessitude was his business, and to be fair, he'd had to deal with Nepeta rubbing hers in his face for the entirety of their voyage. 

“I was hoping something would eat you by the time I got back,” Karkat replied, eyes glittering. “And if I was really lucky, shit you out so something else could roll in you.” 

“That's enough of that,” Jane interrupted, flicking Terezi gently in the temple and earning herself a cackle for her efforts. “Feferi, how was your trip? ...Where's Carcin?” 

Nepeta turned away from the woman's concerned frown, brushing up against her mother instead of answering. Felide had gone very quiet and very still, ears drooping. Apparently word hadn't been sent ahead of them, which would make for a jarring homecoming indeed. Feferi smiled grimly, taking Jane by the hand and leading her back down the road toward Skaia. “We have a lot to talk about, unfortunately, and it would be best as a private conversation first so that you can decide what you want to tell the rest of the village.” 

Jane looked puzzled, but allowed herself to be lead away, leaving Terezi to further aggravate her kismesis. Nepeta bristled when the tealblood nipped Karkat right on the nose as a greeting, and instead of scratching Terezi's blind eyes out, gathered Felide in her arms and flounced away to go get her settled in her hut. 

\---

Jane's pretty lips had thinned themselves into a stern, angry line, and Feferi temporarily mourned their fullness. She watched the human princess draw herself up in her chair, spine stiff and straight, fists balled up tight in her lap. It looked a little ridiculous, to be so angry when she had flour smeared across one cheek, but the fury that snapped in those blue eyes still managed to be unsettling. 

John lounged next to his sister, sprawled loosely in his chair. He'd been present for The Event, and had already had his time to internalize and deal with it as he would. Feferi wondered if his outward nonchalance was only upsetting Jane more, as the girl's eyes kept darting over to him and her frown intensifying. 

“So now we're back here to hunt them,” Feferi finished, sighing. It was a long and complicated story, and one she didn't really relish telling. She'd leave the chore of informing the rest of Skaia to Jane and John, or perhaps Karkat. “We need to put together a specialized jungle team, and arm them with weapons and provisions.” 

Jane nodded, a quick jerky motion. “Let me think about this for a bit, so I can decide how I'm going to let everyone know. People are already suspicious because they didn't see Carcin leave the boat with you, but some suspect he just chose to remain behind.” 

Feferi was more than happy to let her have all the time she wanted, and took her leave of the royal siblings, intent on finding Eridan, or perhaps Equius. Hmm...yes, definitely Equius. Nepeta had disappeared to comfort Felide, after all, which meant that he shouldn't be otherwise occupied. 

\---

“Sometimes, I think I can smell him,” Felide murmured. “And not old scent trails, either. Fresh ones. It's driving me crazy, Nepeta.” 

Her daughter gazed down at her with wide, sad eyes, and Felide's sore heart gave another painful throb. She turned her face away to bury it in a pillow instead of looking at her, ears twitching, picking up the sounds of quiet footsteps. She felt Nepeta shift on the bed, and hiss quietly under her breath, resting one hand protectively on the small of her back. Her daughter's palm was warm and a comfort, but what was she protecting her from? It was just Illiaa, and the village's makeshift medicine woman was no threat. 

“Why would fresh scent trails be a problem, Felide?” Illiaa asked quietly, and when Felide lifted her head from the pillow to look at her, she wished that she hadn't. 

The troll's face was drawn tight with worry, hands clutched in front of her with pale knuckles. She thought that perhaps the jadeblood's eyes echoed something of her own, with that quiet kind of intense misery. 

“Do you want me to send her away?” Nepeta murmured in her ear, quietly enough for only her to hear. Felide shook her head and pulled herself up from her fetal slump, patting the bed for the other troll to join them. It was difficult to lay in the nest that she'd built with her mate, his scent clinging still to the sheets and pillows, but it was tolerable, and far preferable to the absence of him in her nose. 

Illiaa sat primly, the mattress barely dipping beneath her weight. After a tense moment, she reached out and gently laid one hand out over Felide's, giving it a brief squeeze. “Something happened to him, didn't it?” She murmured, as if speaking it too loudly would make it more painful to say. “When he didn't come off of the ship with the rest of you I began to worry. He would have sent word if he'd simply decided to stay.” 

Nepeta made a quiet noise of distress, but Illiaa's eyes never left Felide's. After a moment of tense, heavy silence, she forced herself to take a deep breath and respond. 

“That hideous clown troll attacked while we were having an audience with the Empress. He stole Carcin, and...disappeared, with some kind of horrible magic.” 

Illiaa gave a quiet sob, and her facade of restrained grief fell to pieces. Somehow that only made things even more painful, and with a sad chirp, Felide reached forward to pull the other troll to her, snuggling her face into the painstakingly coiffured hair. Illiaa crumpled in her embrace, shuddering as she cried. 

“I...I knew...something terrible, I could feel...” 

Felide nestled her cheek between Illiaa's horns, carefully minding the hooked spike. The jadeblood's tears unlocked something in her, and before where she could only feel a horribly angry kind of grief, loneliness and fear clawed at her until tears were bubbling up in her eyes as well, mouth twisted into an ugly moue of despair. 

“I couldn't p-p-protect him!” Felide wailed, and barely noticed Nepeta's swift departure. “There was magic e-everywhere and it sm-smelled awful! It clogged my nose, I couldn't find a trail, and now he's g-go-gone!” 

Illiaa pulled away from her, and for a terrible moment Felide thought the troll was going to blame her for Carcin's kidnapping. Instead, cool hands placed themselves on her cheeks, and she was staring into Illiaa's tear-bleary eyes. She must have seen her flinch, for she said, “It's not your fault, Felide. I'm not angry with you.” 

When the werecat sniffled piteously, but didn't tug her face away, Illiaa continued. “I can't think of a better troll to help find him. If he really is here, you will hunt down Fossor and help me in ripping him into innumerable shreds.” 

That was a plan that resonated with her, and Felide felt her lips twitch into a tiny smile. “I will do that,” she whispered, voice still too unsteady for much else. She hadn't sobbed and cried like this since she'd been a kitten, balanced in her mother's lap. But somehow, under Illiaa's sympathetic gaze, it didn't feel as embarrassing as it should. She reached forward and clasped a slim, unscathed hand in her own, thinking of how proud of them Carcin would be. 

\---

Roxy couldn't help but wonder what else existed on this planet that was strong enough to rip a werecat's mate away from it. She'd seen the ease of power with which Felide and her daughters annihilated foes and food alike, had been present for Meulin's attempt on Feferi's life. She'd been told the story just like everybody else, crowded into the town hall in order to listen to a grim-faced Jane explain the current circumstances.   
It didn't surprise her, exactly, to hear that Fossor had finally lost his tenuous grip on sanity and decided to take the rest of the Empire down with him. Apparently it had been at least in part a planned political coup, since Heiress Meenah was now MIA. _That_ was surprising, but upon further reflection on Meenah's character, not very much so. 

She hadn't been selected to be part of the search and rescue team, which rankled a little when she let herself think about it. But APPARENTLY people had to stay behind and make sure that some sort of assault wasn't made on Skaia, and APPARENTLY she was trustworthy enough to do that. 

A Priest, an Heiress, and a Deranged Clown Heretic walk into the jungle. The whole situation sounded like the set-up for either a really funny or really horrible joke, and Roxy wasn't sure just yet which. 

Nepeta and Felide had been obvious choices, of course. Meulin was with the Persons of Interest, which was another conundrum she couldn't wrap her head around. Sollux with his flying and eyelazers and Aradia with _her_ flying and psionics (and badass adventuring skills) had also been selected, and Princess Fefferface, too. Suprisingly, Eridan was not. He usually went everywhere the princess did. 

Jade and Dave and John had made the cut, while Jane and Latula and Jake would remain behind. Equius was going, but Horuss had decided to stay. Aranea had invited herself along for Mysterious Reasons, and Rose had been drafted after much debate, through which the woman just rolled her eyes. Apparently having a Seer along seemed like a good idea. 

Duh. 

The final group was still being discussed, but since Roxy had been told she'd be holding down the fort she mostly lost interest in the proceedings. She wondered if Dirk would be going, and glanced at her moirail, folding her arms on the table and resting her chin against them. He was a terror with a sword, and both and Dave could do that flash-steppy thing. He also had that whole 'silent and deadly' thing going for him, which was scary as fuck. Maybe he'd be stuck in the village too, defending it from probable non-threats. 

In the end, the final group ended up being separated into three squads for ease of movement. Nepeta, Sollux, Jade, Equius, Dave and Rose in the first squad. Felide,Illia, Aradia, Aranea, Feferi and Karkat in the second. Vriska and Epeira would be scouting the coast with Cronus and Rufioh and John. All in all it sounded like a pretty good plan, and once again Roxy found herself admiring Jane's ability to marshal her forces, though there'd been plenty of input from Sticia. 

Still, she didn't like being left behind. Jane must have seen her crabby face because she offered her a tired smile, and Roxy wasn't too much of a jerk not to smile back. 

“Kind of a surprise for Illiaa to go,” she muttered to Dirk, who tilted his head to one side. 

“It makes sense to bring someone with medicinal training along on a clown hunt,” he responded, which made a lot of sense, actually. Felide and Illiaa seemed to be attached at the hip, and while that was bizarre, it was also kind of cute. “It seems more surprising to me that Eridan _isn't_. Don't see Cronus out much at all, odd to see him deciding to be useful.” 

Roxy snorted, though that was true. She secretly thought that maybe Cronus would be more 'useful' and helpful in general if less people reacted to him with immediate dislike. But she hadn't really interacted with him all that much personally, so she couldn't really say. Even Eridan didn't say much about the older Ampora, other than he 'wasn't so bad, really'. 

“Maybe Fef didn't want him to go?” Roxy hazarded, though it was much more likely to be the other way around. She intended to ask him, as soon as she could _find_ him in the crowded Hall. Dirk just shrugged, and then abruptly disappeared. Her eyes tracked him thanks to years and years of practice, and she smirked when he ended up at Jake's elbow, startling the man into dropping his lunch. 

Instead of watching that painfully awkward situation (really, it was horribly and terribly awkward to watch those two fumble around one another), Roxy decided she'd seek Eridan out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know where to find me 
> 
> ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit.tumblr.com


	26. Far Away in The Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta reaffirms her belief in and love of Karkat, and the Clown Hunt proves a success.

With the knowledge that they'd be setting out into the jungle in the morning weighing heavy on her mind, Nepeta felt like the night was just stretching endlessly out in front of her, dawn somewhere beyond her grasp. Felide had pulled her aside after the planning session, confiding in her that she was so dead sure that she'd caught Carcin's scent on the winds. Nepeta had been tempted to dismiss it as wishful thinking, but while she'd been patrolling the outskirts of the village not too long ago she'd caught it, too. 

It had been faint, but recognizable. Too thin on the breeze to lend any immediately traceable trail, but definitely there. It gave hope to Feferi's gamble, and that was enough for now. 

Instead of chasing that temptation of a smell out into the night, Nepeta had instead retired to her hut. She'd be going out soon enough in the morning, and would rather risk a confrontation when she'd had the night to rest and recuperate. 

She'd found Karkat there, flat on his back on their bed. His breathing hitched briefly when he noticed her silent presence, and though he curled a finger to summon her closer he never stopped staring up at the thatch ceiling. 

“We really should have built sturdier homes by now,” he murmured, sighing when Nepeta sprawled beside him and rubbed at the crease in his brow with one gentle finger. “If something does go down here while we're gone the whole place will be rubble.” 

“Will be quick to build back up, though,” Nepeta mumbled, scooting closer to her mate until she could burrow her face in his neck. His heartbeat was a steady, comforting thing, thudding along with single-minded determination. She didn't know what she'd do if that familiar cadence ever quit, and just the thought of potentially losing Karkat on this damned clown hunt had her pressing closer, wrapping her arms around his middle. He shifted to accommodate her, one hand drifting to begin smoothing up and down her back.

“We're in different groups tomorrow,” Karkat said quietly. “I can't stop thinking about how that could mean I might never see you again. I want to trust our people, I do, but Fossor annihilated and murdered without a second thought, and your sister's with them, too. We're a fucking ragtag group up against some crazy cultist sorcery.

Nepeta tried to purr comfortingly, but he was having none of it. “You'll definitely make it out of this alive, you're fucking supernatural. They could hurt you but they'll never keep you down. Me? I'm just flesh and blood covered in metal. I don't have Sollux's eye beams or Dave's speed, or Zahhak's stupid ridiculous strength.” 

Karkat pulled his arm out from around her and pressed both palms to his eyes, heaving a shuddering breath. “I'm supposed to be their leader but I'm just going to fuck everything up, I know it.” 

“Where is all this coming from?” Nepeta asked, genuinely confused. She could understand nerves or fear before a big fight, but all she could smell coming off her mate were thick waves of despair and the stench of inadequacy. She began to delicately pry Karkat's hands from his face, and when he resisted she swung herself over to straddle his hips, forcefully pulling his palms up and into the air, threading his fingers with hers. 

His eyes were red-rimmed and hazy. “My mate, you're hurting,” Nepeta murmured. “Hurting from wounds you're giving yourself. Why?” 

It was perhaps too deep a question – Nepeta couldn't help but feel that maybe this was territory for Kanaya. But she loved Karkat, and couldn't stand by while he was so miserable. Besides, a mate transcended traditional quadrants. He was _hers_ , wholly. 

“I just want to be able to come home to you again when this mess is all over,” Karkat rasped. “I want a home to come home to. I want...I want to come home and see our children sprawled out on the floor, and I want to see you strong and happy.” 

Nepeta's heart seized, and her lungs shuddered, making breathing a terrible problem. A fierce outpouring of love flooded her, and she bent down to capture Karkat's lips with her own in a kiss he reciprocated with near frenzied urgency. He pulled his hands from her grip and set them to roaming her sides, her arms, palming her hips. 

“Red for you,” he panted when she pulled away to nibble on his collarbone. 

“You're mine, and I love you,” Nepeta purred, pulling away so that he could begin hauling off her clothes, watching his claws fumble with the knot on her hip-pelt. “We're going to have so many kittens, Karkat. We're going to fill this house up so we have to build a bigger one just to fit our family.” 

She yowled in laughter when he just ripped the pelt from her, claws slicing through her underwear. “You're going to be such a good father,” Nepeta whispered when he bent to lick at her stomach. “You'll protect our babies and keep them safe, I know you will. I trust you with my life, and with theirs.” 

Her mate made some kind of broken sound, a wracked sob that shook his shoulders. “I love you so much,” he panted, voice cracked. Nepeta hauled his shirt from over his shoulders and dropped it on the ground, purring when he melded himself to her immediately after shucking out of his pants. She shifted to get comfortable on her back on the bed, opening her knees so that Karkat could slide between them. He sucked at her neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin, making her gasp. 

“So red...so red...Nepeta,” he groaned, tears dribbling down his cheeks in streaks of bright red. “I'm so red for you I can't stand it. My heart feels too big for my body.” 

“I chose you because you're strong,” Nepeta sighed, arching into his touch when his mouth latched on to a nipple. “You're capable, you're smart. You're a survivor.” She shuddered, feeling her bulge unsheathe with interest as Karkat peppered her breasts with kisses, leaving smeared teardrops in his wake. “And I love you so much.” 

He reclaimed her mouth, fingers threading through her hair and scratching lightly against her horns. She bucked and writhed against him, mewling a plea, giving a gratified moan when he finally entered her, hot and fierce. It was jerky and uncoordinated, with Nepeta's thighs clamped tightly around his sides, ankles hooked in the small of his back, but she was too lost in the sea of emotion she was in to care, affected just as heavily by their shared passion as she was by the way he squirmed and bucked in her. 

It was over as quickly as it had begun, but she still found herself spent, laid utterly bare straight down to the soul. Karkat stayed slumped on top of her, but he was a comfortable weight to bear. 

“Tomorrow is just one day in the rest of our lives,” she mumbled, pleased when he nodded, dozing on her shoulder. 

\---

It was raining. Meulin stared down from her vantage point from the top of the tower, eyes tracking the movement of the bodies that shifted and slunk far out in the jungle. They were coming to reclaim their prisoners, she thought, chilly drops racing down her bare shoulders. Wind pulled gently at her hair, matted and wet with rain, but she kept her balance easily. 

It had taken them long enough to decide to come after them here, perhaps too long. Meulin had her new Family firmly entrenched and comfortably taken care of here in the Tower. That Meenah was not pleased, but really, Meulin didn't care much for her or her comforts. Her loyalty and thoughts were only for her Messiahs and their whims, and her mate. 

Fossor had come to her one night shortly after his arrival, and gifted her with the dark knowledge of his plans, whispered to his ears by the Mirthful themselves. Meulin herself was instrumental in their success. She knew that this was her calling. 

Her mother and sister would not interfere. They were no longer her most important Family members, if they were even still family at all. They were still several hours way off, keeping a slow and meandering pace. The odds were that they knew what waited for them at the Tower, and were unwilling to meet it quickly. 

Thunder rumbled dimly, and she sighed. Gamzee disliked storms, and was no doubt upset and in need of calming. Even if she did not relish her responsibility, she still took her role as the second son's pale suppressor seriously. Meulin slunk from the domed roof of the tower and into the nearest window, winding down the stairs until she could hear the soft hushed sobs. 

Gamzee huddled in a corner of one of the emptier rooms, as far from any windows as he could get. He feared thunder and lightning because of some incident that had taken place when he was much younger, Meulin had learned. It had apparently been very violent and had had a large impact on the troll's psyche. Meulin thought that was kind of silly, but it wasn't her duty to judge him. 

“Gamzee,” she called quietly, standing just in front of the huddled heap of indigo. It wasn't good to touch him without warning, as he often reacted violently. The medicine that Kurloz kept him on from a young age had done such a number on his development that Gamzee was erratic and unpredictable at the best of times, and disastrous at the worst. But he reached for her with shivering hands, and Meulin allowed herself to be clung to as she sunk to the ground beside him. 

“Thanks, Mew,” he whispered, and she nodded, stroking a hand over the wild hair. Gamzee was physically monstrously strong, as his due for being a highblood, but emotionally and cognitively he was weak as a kitten. This was why the Messiahs had not chosen him, Fossor had informed her. Meulin was made of tougher stuff, was formed and crafted to serve, she'd been told. Just like Kurloz. Together, with Fossor's aid, they would usher in the return of their Mirthful Messiahs. 

As if thoughts of him had summoned the massive troll, Fossor loomed in the doorway, illuminated by a flash of lightning that had Gamzee quaking in her arms. “They will be here in about three hours,” Meulin told him, tightening her hold. “They outnumber us, but that will not matter.” 

 

“I know you will serve faithfully,” Fossor said grimly, and Meulin noted that he had changed the appearance of his face paint. The gaunt skull that stared down at her seemed to be laughing, somehow. 

“I will.” 

\---

Felide had taken off like a thing possessed when they neared the Tower, completely ignoring any and everything else. She was here for her mate more than anything else, and would only stop to fight once she knew he was safe. The werecat had coiled and then pounced, leaping up on to one of the walls and scaling the sprawling vines until disappearing into a window, Illiaa clinging to her back like a specter with a scythe. 

Nepeta had watched her mother go with that knowledge rattling around in her brain. Their two groups had reconvened in the jungle once it had become obvious that the trails they were following were all leading in the same direction. An inevitable kind of dread had taken hold of her with cold claws as the jungle scenery had become slowly more and more familiar, and when the Tower's white walls became visible through the wet greenery it almost felt like her heart had turned to stone. 

She could smell the priest through the murky smell of rain and jungle. He was being held somewhere on one of the top-most floors, and while the scent of blood hung around him, the stench of death did not. But Nepeta had other things to think about now, such as the willowy form that stood in the doorway, streaked in warpaint. 

Meulin was garbed in a tattered black dress that wrapped around her breasts and flowed loosely to her thighs, with some strange symbol emblazoned across her chest in white. Upon closer inspection the paint on her face wasn't the traditional symbolism that Nepeta was used to – instead, Meulin had been painted up to look like one of the Makaras, a white junglecat's mask slathered on her face, its whiskers jagged. 

“Hello, Nepeta,” she called out, but her voice sounded all wrong, like it had been layered over itself somehow. “Oh, and friends, too.” 

Nepeta listened to the quiet sounds of the trolls and humans behind her tensing and shuffling, huffed at the growl from Jade. 

“I'm afraid that we're not welcoming guests at the moment,” Meulin continued, head tilted at an eerie angle. Nepeta jerked, fangs baring themselves of their own accord. 

“GUESTS? This is my HOME!” She thundered, feeling her teeth and claws elongate. Meulin just stared at her unblinkingly, before her lips curled into a nasty smile. 

“Not anymore, kitten. This Tower belongs to my Family now.” 

“I AM your family, Meulin! You aren't making any sense! What have those clowns done to you?!” Nepeta took a step forward, feeling like her veins had been lit on fire with rage. She couldn't tell if she was more furious with Meulin or with what had obviously been _done_ to her, and that anger itched for blood. 

“You're not my little sister anymore, Nepeta. I have ascended to a different Family, where I serve masters that transcend blood bonds. And I will carry out my duties faithfully, like a good disciple.” 

The sky seemed to darken significantly when Fossor slid into view behind Meulin, pressing her aside so that he could exit the tower. Even though he ducked his spiraling horns still scraped gently against the top sill of the stone doorway, and when he unfolded to his full height he stared down at the amassed group of Skaians, scornful. 

Briefly, Nepeta caught a flash of tyrian in one of the windows, but Meenah did not deign to make an appearance. She could hear Feferi's sudden intake of breath, and knew that the princess had seen it, too. Fossor's attention narrowed to the younger Peixes sister, the sides of his lips curling. 

“Ah, the young monarch to be. Tiamat is a fool to let her heiress swim so far from home. But I suppose it only means less opposition to the new Empire I'll be building with Meenah once I kill you.” 

Feferi hissed, fins fluttering with rage, though she held her ground, trident gripped with tight hands. “I came here to bring Meenah back home! The only ones dying here today are going to be you and your worthless sons!” 

Nepeta knew this exchange was important, but she couldn't keep herself from staring at Meulin, who continued to stand guard in the doorway like some kind of sentinel puppet, unmoving and unblinking. She stared back at her with a face that betrayed absolutely nothing. Nepeta didn't understand so much of what was currently happening – Meulin hadn't moved even a muscle to stop Felide and Illiaa from going after Carcin. What was she guarding, if not their captive? Was she supposed to be protecting Meenah? Or Kurloz and Gamzee? None of the three had appeared so far, but the inside of the Tower was eerily and unnaturally quiet. 

There was a rush behind her when Jade loosed a shot from her crossbow, the bolt burying itself in Fossor's shoulder with a squelching thud. There was a moment of tense silence, before the gargantuan troll reared back with a roar, and the battle began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holla at me @ OhMyGoodGollyGoshDarnit.tumblr.com


	27. Jegusfuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is meant to wrap this part of the story up. I do have some plans for a second part, which would turn this into a series. :) It's a lofty undertaking, though! I'm pretty proud of how this one came together, and if there's still anybody out there that wants to keep reading about this AU I'd be happy to pop out some more stories. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

“Can you still smell him, through all the rain?” 

Felide almost wished that Illiaa hadn't asked. Carcin had apparently been moved all over the tower, his scent ingrained into the stones in the walls and the floor. The air was heavy with it, maddening in her nose. He was _somewhere_ , though she'd nearly torn through the bottom half of the tower already with no physical trace. She would have just raced and ripped through its entirety were it not for the jadeblood that kept a tremulous grip on her back, arms circled around her neck. Illiaa wanted them to be thorough, absolutely meticulously thorough, and that meant not leaving a room until it had been checked all the way. 

“Yes,” she eventually grunted, nose wriggling with effort. “His scent is everywhere.” 

It was a comfort to know he wasn't dead. But the higher they climbed, sharp tangy notes of blood began to dot the scent, and Felide felt her mouth going dry, heart hammering in her chest. Illiaa's arms tightened when Felide picked up her pace. 

When she crested the very last stair, skin crawling with anxiety, Felide let out a strangled kind of groan , fury blinding her. She felt Illiaa slip from her back, and was vaguely aware of the troll advancing quickly on the slumped mass that was her mate, too horribly silent. 

Illiaa reached out with trembling fingers to touch the manacles that bound Carcin's wrists, cruel mimicries of his sign. They must have been superheated at one point, she thought, lips pulling in a frown at the slowly healing burns they'd left. They were attached to a chain that hung from the low ceiling, made of heavy looking metal links. That didn't seem to matter to Felide, who ripped it out of the stone with a snarl, winding the length of the chain around her forearm and sheltering Carcin from the small cascade of rubble. 

“He's alive,” Illiaa murmured, though Felide no doubt knew that already. The werecat had taken to prying the manacles apart with her bare hands, the keening whine of the metal grating on Illiaa's ears. They gave with a horrible creaking and a final snap, and when Felide flung them viciously on the floor behind her they were dotted with olive blood. 

“That monster won't be for much longer,” she hissed, ears flat back against her skull. “You'll stay with him?” 

Illiaa nodded, though Felide wasn't looking at her, and probably wasn't even expecting an answer. She averted her eyes when the werecat hunched over her mate, clasping his face with clawed hands, giving her what moment of privacy that she could. “I'll tend to him while you tend to Fossor,” she finally said, looking up to meet Felide's eyes and then sucking in a quick breath of shock. They blazed a fierce, bright yellow-green, pupils nearly invisible behind the glow. 

As the werecat matriarch pulled away, her skin seemed to ripple and shiver, sprouting and rolling with silky black fur. Felide's breathing became labored, coming in shaky pants, her fangs growing past her lower lip, past her chin. As Illiaa watched, entranced by the sounds of bones bending and rearranging themselves, her friend morphed from a troll to the most ludicrously huge junglecat she'd ever seen. Her new furry skull would probably be on level with Illiaa's own, and she was not a diminutive troll. Felide's junglecat claws were more akin to thick dagger-like knives, her mouth of teeth like looking into a maw of terrible eviscerating death. 

So that was what a werecat looked like fully transformed. Illiaa had wanted to know, but never allowed herself to ask. She stared up at the creature, at _Felide_ , and slowly gathered Carcin into her arms, a shaky smile crossing her lips when the werecat sniffed over them both and then took her leave, whirling and disappearing out of the one lone window. “You've never been one for violence, Carcin,” Illiaa murmured to her charge, trying to make him comfortable in the corner. She'd need to make this a defensible position. “But somehow you managed to quadrant yourself with one of the most dangerous, violent things in existence.” 

\---

Felide tasted blood and skin before she even knew what her target looked like, having lunged for the first flicker of indigo that caught her attention. Her prey was oddly non-combative, and while it flinched away from her teeth it didn't do much to attempt to escape. The fearful whimpers made sense, but the posture didn't. She pulled away, sniffing deeply, searching past the stink of fright and confusion, and finding what she was looking for.

Gamzee stared up at her with wide eyes, pupils blown several times too large. He scuttled far too slowly away from her, crab-walking backward until his back hit the wall and he whined. His eyes rolled about in their sockets, back and forth, back and forth, ceiling to floor, wall to wall. Felide grunted harshly, yawning her mouth wide open in a silent threat, but it seemed like Gamzee couldn't even see her. 

When he didn't make any moves toward her, and instead remained crumpled against the wall in a shivering heap, she turned away in search of more worthwhile prey. Murdering an apparently defenseless child while he was out of his mind didn't sit well with her, his involvement in the plot with Meulin notwithstanding. 

\---

Aradia hovered just above the tree line, guiding the trajectories of the arrows that Jade was throwing wildly up into the air. Fossor had snapped the girl's crossbow shortly after the fight began, but she still had a full quiver and wasn't going to let them go to waste. 

It suited Aradia to be up in the air and away from the main fracas. She had a full view from up here, and could occasionally shout down encouragements and warnings. Fossor and Meulin fought like demons possessed, and while they certainly had numbers in their favor, it wasn't looking like it would be a favor for too terribly long. Aranea had disappeared, and Aradia had her hunches as to where exactly the older Serket sister had sneaked off to. 

Rose had drawn her needle-like wands and had taken up chanting off to the side, eyes glowing an ominous bright white even as what looked like dark smoke curled around her feet. Dave seemed to have taken up a defensive position in front of her, probably for as long as it would take for the seer to rattle off her incantation. Sollux was busy burning gashes in the earth along Fossor's feet for the troll to stumble in to and hopefully break an ankle or two, though that wasn't making combat any easier for his allies either. 

Equius was toe to toe with the monstrous Makara, soaking in the damage that would have toppled his friends. He was bruised and bloodied, rivulets of blue running down his face and arms, and was now missing multiple teeth. Aradia could see them scattered in the trampled grass. With every hit Fossor landed on her moirail Nepeta seemed to lose another inch of her threadbare hold on sanity, flying at him with increasing viciousness each time. A wet ripping sound captured Aradia's attention just in time for her to witness Nepeta grasping hold of Fossor's left ear in her mouth and then somersaulting backwards, her bloody prize clasped between her indigo-drenched teeth. 

Meulin, for her part, seemed solely focused on Feferi. 

Aradia's heart hammered in her ears as she reached out with her psionics, seizing Meulin's swiping hand before it could plunge into the princess's chest. Feferi was fast and monstrously strong, and skilled with her trident, but she couldn't match the werecat out for her blood. 

“ _Nepeta_!” Aradia yelped, raising her other hand and capturing her friend, the only warning she gave her before she sent her throttling in Meulin's direction. The two sisters collided in a rattling crash of bodies and bones, giving Feferi enough time to slink away and rejoin the main battle with Fossor. 

She had enough time to hear Karkat hollering her name before she felt the massive hand close around her ankle and begin yanking her downward, and it was instict-quick action that had her firing a psionic blast directly into Fossor's eyes, baring her teeth in a snarl. 

\---

Their momentum had them tumbling into the underbrush, head over heels and dangerously intertwined, scratching and biting at each other. After accidentally getting herself two or three times Nepeta finally heaved herself out and away, forcefully separating from Meulin and rasping out a growl. Her sister was half-shifted, eyes luminous and claws cleaver-sharp, fangs stretching over her lower lip. 

They stared at one another, panting heavily into the silence. Nepeta could feel her own teeth elongating in response, fur growing and rolling over her skin. Her hackles raised and her tail bottle-brushed as she stared Meulin down, half-crouched and defensive. When her sister turned tail and bolted into the jungle she took chase, screaming into the hot dense air. 

It was still muggy from the rain, and though it had slowed to a drizzle the damage had been done. Nepeta slung herself down to all fours to make navigation easier, mud splashing up her arms and across her chest and stomach. Meulin's tail swung erratically up ahead, the slashes of gray fur against the darkening night Nepeta's beacon. 

Meulin could run for as long as she wanted. Her sister had always been faster, but Nepeta had all the _endurance_. This wasn't a race so much as it was a desperate flee for her life, and they both knew it. They both knew Nepeta would catch her, sooner or later. 

She always had, when they'd been kittens at play.

The sunbathed memories made her heart clench, and she roared, fighting past the pain they inflicted. Meulin took a sharp right and went barreling out into a clearing they'd used to nap in not even a sweep ago. Nepeta caught her before she'd made it not quite to the center, throwing herself forward and tackling her sister around the middle, digging her claws in and dragging her down to the ground. 

Meulin immediately began to writhe and seize, her clawed hand catching Nepeta's cheek and slashing across her face. Nepeta tasted her own blood, squeezed her left eye shut so that it could heal over. “You can't kill me,” Meulin hissed, kicking at Nepeta's legs. “There are things that I must _do_!” 

Nepeta bit a chunk out of Meulin's shoulder and spat it in her face, gratified by the spray of blood. Her sister screamed and lunged forward, shoving Nepeta over onto her back and driving her fist into her sister's nose, not stopping until she heard it crack. The younger werecat howled in pain, hands coming up to drag Meulin back to the ground in order to roll her over. 

They struggled like that, rolling and tumbling and coating the clearing in dripping green blood until Nepeta lost count of the minutes, maybe the hours. Her body screamed with exhaustion and abuse, bones broken and battered. Meulin panted raggedly and mewled between rattling breaths, sagging into a crouch as they stared at one another from opposite ends of the clearing.

“Nepeta,” Meulin gasped out, holding up one hand to stall her advance. “Nepeta, please. Stop and just...just _smell_ me, Nep.” 

The nickname was what made her pause, and she settled back on her hanches to eye Meulin with greater scrutiny. “You smell like blood, and fear,” she spat, unimpressed. 

“No, kitten,” Meulin whimpered. “Try harder. You _have_ to. _Please_!” 

Nepeta made a small broken sound, watching her sister cradle a slowly-healing broken arm and plead with her. They were far away from either of their allies – if this was just Meulin stalling for time she would have to come up with a damn good distraction. Even so, Nepeta tilted her nose into the air, taking a deep curious whiff. 

And promptly had to stop herself from vomiting on her own feet. 

“You're _pregnant_?” She whisper-howled, lurching a few steps forward despite herself, stopping only when Meulin cried out in fear. “You let him _breed_ with you?” 

“Kurloz is my mate, Nep!” Meulin shot back at her, arms held defensively over her stomach. Nepeta was now horribly relieved she'd not landed any blows there, but she supposed that Meulin's odd out-of-character defensive postures suddenly made an awful kind of sense. 

“HE'S CRAZY!” She screamed, not caring about the furious look that darkened her sister's previously pleading face. “YOU'RE crazy!” 

Meulin just leveled her with the same stony gaze for a moment until it softened again, and she drew herself up out of her crouch. “Nepeta,” she said softly. “Nepeta, just let me run away.” 

She shook her head so adamantly it felt like it might just go flying off, unbelieving. Meulin just repeated herself. “Please just let me run away. I have to live. _We_ have to live.” 

For a moment, Nepeta thought she meant the two of them, but then realized that she meant whatever abomination was growing in her sister's womb. Her lips curled in a snarl, disgusted despite herself. Kurloz had manipulated Meulin, brainwashed her, stolen her away, used her as a weapon and accomplice in his schemes, and had now planted himself inside her so that she could doubtless birth him yet another pawn.  
“Why?” She snarled, but her heart wasn't in it. Meulin must have known, her lips curling into a soft smile. 

“Because you love me, Nepeta,” she purred. “And because you know I've always wanted a family. Let me leave, let me raise this little kitten. Tell them you've killed me if you must, but just...let me go.” 

Nepeta was horrified at how soothing that purr was, how it burrowed deep in her heart and calmed an ache it had no business calming. She'd fallen asleep to it for years, had it guide her dreams and wake her every morning. Meulin's fangs had retreated and she'd lost her shift, her ragged face so beautifully familiar and...and Nepeta had missed her so much. 

“Will you come back to us after we kill them?” She whispered, lifting one hand to knuckle away a tear she hadn't told it could fall. Meulin didn't seem too upset by that question, tilting her head to one side. “I don't know,” she murmured. “But I also don't know if it's _possible_ to kill Fossor. He's...” 

She trailed off, looking off in a direction that Nepeta could vaguely identify as back toward the tower. “He's not natural,” Meulin finished, even as what sounded like fierce victory cries sounded in the distance. She advanced on Nepeta slowly, cautiously, but Nepeta allowed it, having long since put her claws away. 

Gently, Meulin took her sister's face in her palms and looked her in the eyes for a long moment, sighting softly before pressing a bloody kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” she said quietly, and was gone, vanished into the night before Nepeta could even begin to regret not grabbing hold of her for a hug. 

\---

Feferi had watched in awestruck horror as Felide had opened her massive maw and seized Fossor's skull in it, huge paws braced on the troll's shoulders. The werecat had jerked and bit mightily, and it was with a bloody flourish that she severed Fossor's head from his neck. 

The disembodied head had rolled until it stopped with a macabre _thunk_ at her feet. Felide was already licking the blood from her muzzle, and as cheers and hoarse cries of joy went up, Feferi stared into eyes that still watched her, narrowed in hatred. His mouth was moving as if he was trying to speak, but no words were coming, only a low guttural kind of moaning. She shuddered, before lifting her trident and spearing it into the head, raising it aloft with a fierce smile. 

“ _Here lies the last vestige of your kingdom, Meenah!_ ” Feferi cried, looking up into the shocked face of her sister, who watched her from the tower window she was leaning out of. “You've been _CONQUERED_!” 

Karkat grunted something about dramatics, but she ignored him. This was the moment of her triumph, and she wasn't going to let the grumpy knight take it from her. She could see Aranea standing beside the shell-shocked Meenah, her arm threaded through the heiress's. The Serket looked calm and unruffled, and for all the world like she was about to give Meenah a world-class scolding. Ridiculous. 

Rose had drifted toward the tower's entrance in order to meet Illiaa, who had appeared with Carcin cradled in her arms like he wasn't a fully grown troll and an incredibly important religious figure. Maybe they should paint _that_ in one of their murals, Feferi thought. Illiaa had always been incredibly beautiful in her own way. She deserved a stained glass window in her honor. 

Felide seemed to be having difficulty reversing her shift (or perhaps she simply wasn't inclined to), so she just lounged on the headless body of her dead foe, undisturbed when Jade and Dave approached to investigate. She did turn her head to observe Illiaa, though, and immediately made a concerned noise. Feferi first thought it was over the safety of her mate, but when Illiaa turned to smile at the werecat Feferi could see the streaks and flecks of indigo blood that decorated the blade of the jadeblood's scythe. 

Her thoughts whirled to Kurloz and Gamzee, who had not deigned to show themselves the entire time. Had they attacked Illiaa while she guarded Carcin? Had she killed them, too? Were they really rid of the whole family? 

Illiaa settled Carcin beside Felide, who leaned down to lick gently at his wrists. “Kurloz attacked me,” she murmured, but Feferi could still hear her. 

“Is he dead?” She called out, impatient. “What about that Gamzee?” 

Meenah made some kind of nasty noise, but Feferi ignored her. 

“No, he's not fuckin' dead. Neither of 'em are,” Meenah called down, mouth stretched in a disdainful snarl. Illiaa didn't even so much as shrug, looking up at Feferi tiredly. “I couldn't bring myself to murder children,” she said, then added on, “So I simply incapacitated Kurloz when he appeared. Gamzee showed up shortly after, but just...sat next to the window and was silent.” 

She seemed just as confused about that as Feferi felt. The princess watched Aradia and Sollux float their way into the tower, and when they emerged a few minutes later they had both Makara trolls suspended between them, both in varying states of consciousness. 

“Whenever Nepeta shows up we can start heading back to Skaia,” Karkat grated out from where he knelt beside his father. No one called him out on the nervousness that caused his voice to shake and rattle. Feferi started a little, having never noticed that Nepeta had disappeared in the first place. Now that she looked, Meulin was gone, too. She glanced to Equius, hoping for answers, but the blue-blooded troll was staring at his feet. 

Nepeta reappeared some half-hour later, looking absolutely wrecked, and very much alone. Karkat had jolted toward her, but Felide beat him by a mile, de-shifting in a blur in order to seize her daughter and gather her into her arms. The two knelt together in silence, and Illiaa watched them for a moment before gesturing for everyone to begin heading out, giving the family their peace. 

Equius carried Carcin for much of the way back, Aradia and Sollux busy with their own less pleasant burdens. Jade and Dave hung in a tight cluster with Rose, who seemed to have some kind of residual darkness clinging to her skin. Feferi had witnessed some of the magic that the woman had slung into the fray, and none of it had been pleasant. It had made her skin tingle unpleasantly just on sight alone, but even worse were the whispers she thought she could hear from it, the ones that felt like they were crawling into her brain. Rose met her eyes and said nothing, but she looked like she _knew_ somehow. 

Aranea and Karkat currently comprised of Meenah's honor guard. Feferi was far too busy triumphantly leading the way back to Skaia to bother with her turncoat traitor of a sister, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't keeping her earfins open for any of what would assuredly be interesting conversation. 

Nepeta and Felide brought up the very rear of their caravan, murmuring quietly to one another. Felide was still sprayed with Fossor's blood, and while Nepeta was no fresh daisy herself, Feferi hadn't been able to spy any blood on her that wasn't olive green. 

It was with a sickening twist of her stomach that she realized that some of that blood very likely belonged to Nepeta's sister. Meulin had committed crimes against the Crown and the Empire, but...Feferi would never have knowingly sent somebody after their own _sister_. 

But that was enough with the bloody thoughts for now. Skaia was just another hour or so away at this point, and she wanted to arrive with her chin high, and head-bearing trident held up like the trophy it was. 

\--- 

It had been at least two weeks, and Feferi still hadn't been able to fully understand whatever had happened with Meulin. Nepeta simply didn't talk about it, and all Felide would say about the matter was that it had been “handled”. Feferi took that to mean that there had been some sororicide and the case was closed. 

She'd been considering a little bit of sisterly violence herself these days, though she'd never let herself act on it. Meenah was a royal pain in her fins, and if it weren't for Aranea's near constant timely intervention tempers would have already flared and resulted in blood. 

Kurloz had come to and then promptly refused to talk to anyone, undaunted even in the face of Sticia's righteous judicial fury. They'd left him alone in his “cell” one night (a prison had been hastily constructed in their absence with the help of some of Dirk and Horuss's newfangled machines, and then finished with Mituna's handiwork) and had found him the next morning in a puddle of his own blood. Apparently he'd bitten off his own tongue. Illiaa had declared him still alive and not dead from blood loss, and said that when he'd woken yet again he took her first aid kit from her and shooed her from the cell. 

When Jane arrived to bring him and Gamzee their breakfast the next morning she'd been surprised to find that Kurloz had sewn his mouth own shut. 

Gamzee seemed to still be trapped in his own mind for the most part, which Feferi was having a hard time counting as a loss. He was at his most lucid (and most calm, for that matter) when Jane was the one talking to him, so it was with reluctance that Feferi had assigned her Gamzee-duty. They were still hoping that they'd be able to get some kind of story or explanation out of him, some kind of justification for the actions of his family. But it didn't seem promising. 

Carcin had recovered well, and though his wrists were still bandaged he seemed unhindered by them. Feferi had been told he was considering “retiring” to Skaia semi-permanently, which her Queen mother was not likely to be pleased with. But Feferi honestly couldn't find fault with his decision. The troll probably just wanted a calm life with his family after everything he'd been put through. 

Apparently Fossor hadn't had any part for Carcin in his plans. He'd just wanted to cause him pain and to take out whatever cruel urges he could think of, and it had been a convenient time for a kidnapping. Most absolute case of horrifically failed black romance Feferi had ever heard of in her life, and Eridan was her palemate. She'd heard of many. 

But Carcin also didn't know anything about said evil plans, which was a let down. Fossor had apparently been very secretive about whatever he had going on in that head of his, but he hadn't wanted to tell just anyone about it, and his head certainly wasn't feeling very talkative now.

(Sometimes, Feferi thought it croaked to her in her dreams, along with the odd garbled whispers of Rose's dark undulating smoke. But those were just dreams.) 

With all the drama for the most part finished up, she had plans to set sail back home and attend to the demands of her mother, who wanted to know “what the fuck happened with all that witchcraft shit”. It was a succinct explanation of the events if not an elegant one, Feferi thought. She still had a few more days of lounging about in Skaia before she had to leave, and she was planning on spending them with Eridan. For the most part, anyway.

Equius was still around here somewhere, after all. She wasn't going to give up the chase that easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO YEAH. That's the end! For now, anyway. Until I'm motivated to get up off of my butt and start the 'sequel', I suppose. But until I do that I might keep writing little oneshots or short chapter mini-stories that take place within this verse, mostly shippy stuff. SO IF YOU HAVE SOME SHIPPERY, lemme know and I might write it up :D
> 
> As always, holla atcha gurl @ ohmygoodgollygoshdarnit.tumblr.com


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